I ain't leaving without your love
by LaTourangelle
Summary: Teenlock. Highschool AU. Greg is starting at sixth form college in a new area. On his first day, he meets another 'newbie'. Determined to make friends with him, he is surprised to find they become more than friends. Probable Rating increase for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 – It's the morning of your very first day. Pt.1

As Greg Lestrade got ready for his first day at Baker Street Sixth Form College a wave of apprehension came over him. Unlike most of the others who would be attending, he wasn't transitioning with peers from his comprehensive. His mum had accepted a new job during the summer, which had culminated in their recent move from Dorset into Greater London. He didn't hold the move against his mother. After his father, a police constable, had been shot and killed whilst his mother was pregnant with him, she had worked hard to raise him single-handedly. Working unskilled jobs to make ends meet whilst Greg had been growing up, once he was in high school, she made the decision to go and get a degree. Sarah Lestrade did not regret her whirlwind romance with Greg's father, Christian, nor did she regret that marrying so young meant that she had put her dream to become a teacher on hold. Her only regret was that her time with her husband had been so tragically cut short, and that Greg had never got to meet his father. However, after Greg started high-school, she finally decided to get her PGCE and now she was embarking on her first teaching job. Greg was amazingly proud of his mum, and he knew that the upheaval was worth it when he saw her at the breakfast table that morning. Excited and nervous all at once.

Greg was feeling very similar to his mother. As he walked down the route he'd memorized which would take him to college, he wondered how his day would pan out. Whilst everyone starting Lower Sixth Form today would be new to the college, most of them would be moving up with friends from their relative high schools. Alliances, friendships, and cliques would already be formed for many of the youths. He paused briefly to send off a message in his iMessage group chat to all his friends from his old comp. They too would be starting a new Sixth Form College that day, so he wished them all luck, and internally thought about how much he wanted to be with them. Almost immediately a barrage of replies came back from the group, sending back the wishes of luck, and letting him know he was missed.

As he passed through the gates of Baker Street Sixth Form College, Greg took a moment to look around the grounds. The college itself was large but unremarkable, and was set on a plot with a sizeable carpark in front of the building, and a large grassy area off to the right, complete with a few shelters and picnic style tables. The map he received a few weeks ago, in the post along with his handbook and timetable, had shown playing fields to the rear of the building. A quick look at his watch revealed the time to be 8.20. The day began with 'sign in' at 8.30. The time meant that there were still a large number of students milling around outside – friends reunited after summer break. Rather than dwell on this, Greg pulled his timetable from his bag. His 'sign in' group was called Eagle and their room was 2a1. He'd read about the decision taken to name each sign in group after a bird of prey in the handbook, and whilst he thought it a bit ridiculous considering the students were all going to be sitting their A-levels this year, and could clearly cope with a numerical system rather than childish naming systems like houses at Hogwarts, he decided to put the thought out of his head and try and find his sign in room.

It was not as difficult as he had thought it would be. Despite not being present for the tours before the summer, which most of the other new students would have taken part in, the room number system was far more logical than the sign in name system. 2a1 was the first room of the A corridor on the second floor. He entered the room to find it already contained a large number of people. A few heads turned as he entered, but when they saw that he wasn't a friend of theirs, they quickly turned back. Here groups were formed much like they had been outside, with chatter buzzing around the room as people filled in their friends about their holiday, their summer romances, their timetable for the day and numerous other subjects. Only one person sat alone, in the farthest corner of the room, a boy with auburn hair and striking features, huddled over his mobile. Greg had thought for a moment that maybe he was also a newbie, and had contemplated taking a seat at the desk next to him, but then quickly decided that his friends just probably hadn't arrived yet, and so left a few seats before situating himself at a desk further along the back row.

Somewhere, a bell rang. The students that had previously stood around in little groups quickly found their way to seats. A brightly dressed young woman swept into the room with a dazzling smile. A few murmurs went around the room as the boys present appreciated the petite but curvy mid-twenties brunette who turned to 'Casey' on the whiteboard at the front of the room.

"Hello my little Eaglets, welcome to your first day at Baker Street Sixth Form College" said the bubbly brunette. "It's my first day here too, so we'll have to help each other along. As you know, things are a bit different here than in high school. First of all, what used to be form-time is now called 'sign in', and I will be your group's sign in leader. Secondly, tutors here go by first name, and as you can see from the board, mine's is Casey. Now if you could all sit tight while I do a quick attendance list, letting me know if you go by anything other than the name I call out, then we can have a bit of a getting to know you session."

Mycroft sat alone in the farthest corner of the room. Whilst waiting for his name to be called, he quickly surveyed the room. The desks directly around him were unoccupied. A few rows in front were some girls who he recognized as having gone to his high-school. However, as he had moved up a year early, having taken his GCSEs in year 10 rather than year 11, he wasn't acquainted with them. A group of boys to the girls' left also seemed familiar, probably for the same reason, and he noticed that all of them were looking at the tutor Casey with appreciation. As he scanned the room, he noticed that all the boys present were focussed entirely on her. All of them, except the other loner in the room, who was in fact staring miserably at his desk. He was snapped out of his reverie as he heard Casey call out "Mycroft Holmes".

"Here", he replied, as a few students turned to look at him.

He quickly turned his attention back to the brown haired boy sitting alone further along his row. He looked for a few minutes trying to figure out why the boy was sitting alone. Relocation for a parent's job – simple enough. And a more valid reason than that he was a genius and had progressed to Sixth Form a year early. Not that it would have mattered, because even back at his Comprehensive, his intelligence intimidated the others in his year, and he didn't have any friends. The boy lifted his stare from the desk as Casey called out the name "Gregory Lestrade".

"That's me, but I prefer to be called Greg", the brunette boy called back, before lowering his gaze again.

"That's fine Greg", Casey said before going on with the list.

After the attendance list was done, Casey proposed that they go through the list again and let each person say a little bit about themselves. Mycroft sunk a little lower in his chair. This was unnecessary humiliation. He did not want to stand up and tell his form mates what Comp he had attended and what his interests were, - as those were Casey's suggested topics -, and nor did he care about the others' responses to these questions. He zoned out.

The bell rang, bringing Mycroft's mind back to the room. They had only reached D surnames on the registers for introductions in the allotted time, and Casey assured the remainder that their turn would come tomorrow. 'Hopefully not', thought Mycroft, as he pocketed his phone and lifted his bag to head off to his first subject.

Greg's head snapped up as the bell rang, interrupting the introductions that Casey had started. Thank god they hadn't reached L on the list just yet. He wasn't ready to stand up in front of a bunch of strangers. As he gathered up his bag and his coat, he glanced at the auburn haired boy that he'd noticed when he'd first came in. Mycroft, that was his name. An odd name, in Greg's opinion. He headed off to his first class, which was English Lit, and was only down the hall in room 2a14. As he approached them room, he noticed that Mycroft was headed there too. Deciding to bite the bull by the horns, in the hope of uniting with another would-be loner, he turned to Mycroft as they entered the room.

"So, are you another newbie, not moving up from one of the local Comps?"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 – It's the morning of your very first day. Pt. 2

"So, are you another newbie, not moving up from one of the local Comps?"

Mycroft's attention snapped quickly to the owner of the voice as he entered the English Lit classroom. The voice belonged to Greg. Glancing around quickly to ensure that he was actually to him, and not someone else, Mycroft replied.

"Ah, no. I did actually come from a local one, but moved up from Year 10, and don't know any of the Year 11s who transitioned", said Mycroft softly. Greg seemed nice, but his intelligence made him the subject of ridicule and bullying normally, and therefore he didn't want to talk about. He lowered his gaze unsurely as he seated himself at a desk in the back row again.

"Smarty-pants", replied Greg, as he slid in to the desk next to the one Mycroft had chosen. To Mycroft's surprise, there was no malice in the tone with which Greg had spoken. Mycroft looked up to see Greg smiling at him. Unsure of what to say next, Mycroft was saved as the tutor arrived and asked for hush.

The lesson passed quickly. Their tutor, Marcus, passed out the reading list and outlined what was expected of them for the first part of the term. Mycroft was underwhelmed by the reading list, having read most of the texts already, while Greg baulked at the thought of the reading and workload. Another bell signalled the end of the class.

As they stood to leave, Greg spoke to Mycroft again.

"Whatcha got now?" the brunette enquired.

Mycroft was surprised by Greg's willingness to talk to him. He was certain that his earlier admission would have brought an end to the small-talk Greg had been making. As it were, he didn't register what the boy had asked and merely hmm-ed a response.

"What class have you got now?" Greg asked again.

"Oh, history. And you?" Mycroft replied, still a bit taken aback.

"With C. Moffat? Same. Let's make a move."

Greg's ongoing attempt to associate with him puzzled Mycroft. He figured that Greg must be really missing his friends from wherever he lived before, if he was so quick to make friends with a social outcast. In the meantime, Greg was thinking that although he seemed reserved and somewhat shy, Mycroft was lovely. He'd had no interactions with any other students so far, but something told him that he was lucky he'd been put in the sign in group with Mycroft as the other loner.

"My name's Greg, by the way. Just in case you didn't catch it during attendance this morning."

"Yes. I'm Mycroft", the auburn headed teen replied.

Ok, so he isn't much of a conversationalist so far, mused Greg, but going with his intuition, he resolved to persevere with the younger teen. Something told him that it'd be worth it. They continued their walk to history in silence, however, and quietly took adjoining desks at the back of the room again.

As the others filed in and took their seats at the desk surrounding them, Mycroft found himself pondering why this new teens presence had vanished all the uncomfortable apprehension that he'd felt that morning, and wondered if he might have found himself his first ever friend.

Five minutes before the end of the history lesson, Mycroft's phone began to buzz incessantly. It was quiet, and did not draw the attention of the tutor, but Greg noticed. Mycroft slipped the phone from his trouser pocket and into his lap where he silenced the vibrating. Greg glanced at the screen under the desk and read the name of the caller. Sherlock, another strange name.

The bell rang. There was a 20 minute break now before the next class. Greg was about to ask if Mycroft wanted to go to the common room during the break, but the younger teen shoved his folder in his bag roughly and slipped out before Greg had the chance to say a word.

Mycroft made his way out in to the corridor, quickly dialling back the number of his last caller. Sherlock. His 10 year old younger brother was starting high school today, a year early, and after being previously home-schooled. Mycroft was worried about him. Sherlock had been gifted with the same intelligence that Mycroft had. However, he lacked experience of being in the company of other children, due to the home-schooling, and therefore didn't understand that it wasn't socially acceptable to brag about his higher intellect. The call connected.

"_I don't like it here Myc" _said the voice at the other end.

"What's wrong Sherlock?" asked Mycroft worriedly.

"Everyone here is an idiot."

"Lockie, you have to be kind to the other children. You won't make friends by calling them all idiots," replied the teen, quickly turning into older brother mode.

"_I don't have to make friends," _replied the childlike voice, somewhat accusatorily.

Mycroft sighed. He would have to have a word with his brother tonight. "No, I don't have friends, Sherlock, and that's why I know how important it is that you make friends. I don't want you to be lonely and miserable like me."

"You have me, Myc."

Mycroft's heart swelled. Sherlock, as a rule, did not deal well with emotions, so kind words, and emotional displays were few and far between. He knew his brother loved him, but even so, it was nice to hear once in a while.

"Thanks Lockie. Now go and enjoy your first day. Be nice, and I'll see you later," Mycroft said before ringing off.

Greg hovered nearby, as the other students moved around, snacking or chatting during the break. He wasn't intentionally listening in on Mycroft's phonecall, but he did overhear. When Mycroft spoke about having no friends, it strengthened Greg's resolve to make an effort with the other 'new kid'.

He walked up behind Mycroft, placing a hand on the boys shoulder. "You ok, Mycroft?" he asked.

Mycroft startled a little. "Yes, why?"

"Just wondered. You rushed to take that phone call."

"Oh yeah. My little brother," replied Mycroft.

With that the bell rang, and without a word, Mycroft moved off to whatever class he had next, leaving Greg to watch his retreating figure.

The boys didn't see each other during midday classes. Greg got a hot lunch from the cafeteria, and ate lunch alone, whilst flicking through Facebook on his phone. He saw a few pictures of his gang of mates from Dorset, taken at the new college, and felt a pang of jealousy. He wished he was there. He knew he had to make do, and his intuition really was telling him that keeping on at Mycroft was a good idea, but whilst eating lunch alone, it just depressed him thinking that the one effort he'd made to make friends had been essentially thrown back in his face.

Mycroft had a lunch from home, made that morning by the Housekeeper. He took it to the library and tried to read up on the subjects he had after lunch. However, he found that his head wasn't in it. His thought's strayed to Greg, and now that he had time to think about it, Mycroft realised how attractive Greg was. This made him wonder where the boy was taking his lunch. Wherever he was, he was probably the subject of all the girls' attentions. The thought brought an unwarranted pang of jealously which Mycroft pushed to the back of his mind as he turned his attentions back to his textbooks.

After lunch brought Mycroft to sociology. As he entered the room, he noticed Greg, once again situated in the back row. Greg made a gesture to the desk next to him. This brought a smile to Mycroft's face as he manoeuvred himself to the back of the class. Their tutor for sociology worked them hard, and soon the lesson was ending. This time it was Mycroft who enquired as to what Greg had next.

"Nothing. Well, independent study, which is as good as an early finish," replied Greg. "What about you?"

"Independent study. My government tutor gave out homework already this afternoon, so I was going to the library to do that."

"Ahh, good point. I got homework from my Chem tutor, so if I do that just now, it gets it out the way. How about we go to the form room rather than the library, then we can talk too," said Greg.

The idea of an extra hour talking with Greg made Mycroft happy, for reasons he didn't understand. The boys found a table in the form room, where they settled down to work. As they went through their homework, they talked about what A-level subjects they were doing. When Greg found out Mycroft was doing Advanced Chemistry, he immediately roped him into helping out with the homework his tutor had set earlier that day. The hour passed quickly and the boys made their way out to the gate. Mycroft approached a fancy looking black car stopped just across from the college, apparently his ride. As they parted, Greg turned back to Mycroft.

"Seeya at sign in tomorrow then, mate."

Mate. Mycroft had a friend.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 – It's like my thoughts have been erased.

Mate. Mycroft had a friend.

Mycroft replayed it over and over again in his head on the trip home. The day had gone far better than he had expected it could. At his old comprehensive school, everyone regarded him with contempt. Unlike his younger brother, he understood that he couldn't flaunt his intellect, yet he still suffered for it. The kids in his Year had made his life a living hell. He hadn't thought that college would be different.

How wrong he was. By the end of sign in he'd been approached, and effort had been made. And not by someone strange -by a normal (and quite attractive) boy. Yes, he understood that it was only because Greg was new and Mycroft had been the only other person that was alone. At the stage they were at in their adolescence, existing friendship groups would be hard to infiltrate. Mycroft understood this. And yet, Greg had still tried, even after learning about Mycroft moving up early.

That, Mycroft could not understand. He wasn't complaining though. Greg truly was lovely, and somehow he made Mycroft feel comfortable. His first day really had gone better than expected, he'd made a friend. And after 3 years of dreading going to school every morning, he was actually looking forward to college the next morning.

That night, Greg skyped his friends in Dorset. They had all gone to his mate Gunnar's after college. It was great to see them all, but maybe a bit bittersweet because he couldn't be there. Zoey, one of the girls in the group, and his best friend, was the first to ask...

_"So, Greggy? Did you make any friends? Or just pine for us?"_

"I did of course pine for you lot. It was hard because everyone already had their own little friend group. There was this one guy though. He didn't know anyone either," admitted Greg.

"_Oh tell us more," _urged Crissy, a boy who played football with the team Greg had been on.

"_Yeah, what's he like? Is he fit?" _This was typical Zoey. Incessant questioning.

"Well... I dunno. He's not conventionally attractive I guess. Not like one of those guys who is universally thought of as gorgeous. But yeah I'd say he was fit"

"_What's his name? Is he boyfriend material?" _The voice came from off-screen, but Greg knew it belonged to Gunnar. 3 years ago, while still struggling with his sexuality, Greg had gone to a Teen LGBT support group. There he'd met Gunnar. They went to the same school, and Greg had recognised him immediately as being in his year, but since they'd never had classes together, they'd never met. Gunnar had been his first. All his firsts. But after going too far too fast, they'd split, still remaining close friends. Now, Gunnar felt it his duty to screen all potential partners for Greg.

"To be honest, I don't even know what way he swings. Even so, he's a bit reserved. Don't think I'd dare try him."

"That's a shame Greggy. But still, at least you made a friend," said Zoey.

They stayed on for about an hour. It was sweet, and nice to still feel included, although he knew it may not last. He shut down the laptop when his mum came in. He was eager to hear about her first day, and she was eager to know about his.

When Mycroft walked in to 2a1 the next morning at 8.10am, he was surprised to see Greg already there, this time sitting in the desk directly next to the one that Mycroft had chosen yesterday, rather than 3 seats along. Mycroft greeted him cheerily and took his seat.

"Do anything interesting last night?" Greg inquired.

"Not particularly. I took my brother to his music lesson. That's about it. You?" replied Mycroft.

"Video-chatted with my mates from back home. They were having a get-together, it was almost as if I was there. Then had a night with my Mum since she survived her first day in her new job and I survived mine here."

Mycroft chuckled slightly. "Yeah, you didn't get eaten alive. They're probably just lulling you into a false sense of security. Is your mum's new job the reason you moved?" he asked, despite having already deduced this.

"Yeah. She's wanted to be a primary teacher her whole life. But she married my Dad before she got the chance to go to uni. Then she got left to raise me alone. So when I started high school she finally went for it. It's a big deal for her, and now she's qualified, she deserves to be doing what she loves, even if we had to move," answersed Greg.

"She's a single parent?"Mycroft asked, with a genuine interest. He wants to get to know Greg.

"Dad was a policeman. Shot dead by an armed robbery suspect when he was 22 and my Ma was pregnant with me."

Greg didn't look sad, but Mycroft felt an overwhelming surge of sympathy for the boy next to him. Not only that, but he was pleased that Greg felt comfortable enough to share really personal things with him. He decided a change of subject was in order and they chatted whilst the room filled up, until the bell rang for sign in to start.

Luck was on their side again, as notices to be read out in sign in meant that they ran out of time for introductions again that morning. Their first class together was English Lit after lunch so they decided to meet in the cafeteria and eat together. Greg was pleased. Mycroft seemed a lot more willing to be his friend this morning. In Chemistry, they were paired up and asked to swap homeworks so they could mark each others. His partner was a gorgeous brunette called Anthea.

"Full marks, genius," said Anthea as she passed him his homework back.

"You did well too. Dropped 2 marks. I wrote in the correct answer for you."

"Chivalrous, thank you," said Anthea as she took back her notebook and looked for her mistakes. She pointed to one of the problems. "Do you think you could explain this to me?"

"Uhmm." Greg looked at his own notebook. "I can try. I had a friend explain it to me, but I'll give it a go."

He tried to explain the problem to Anthea, and afterwards they continued to work together, chatting about a bit of everything.

Mycroft had double Advanced Maths while Greg had double Chem. They had finished the assigned work for the day early and the tutor had allowed them to leave 5 minutes before the bell rang for lunch. He headed down towards the cafeteria to wait for Greg. Soon the bell rang and the halls were bursting with students.

Mycroft spotted Greg, headed his way. He took a minute to take a good look at Greg, registering once again that he was a pretty handsome young man He walked with a brown-haired girl, who he would have found stunning, if he had been in to girls. As it were, he recognized that she was pretty and thought that she and Greg made quite a good looking couple as the wandered down the corridor. A sharp wave of jealousy which Mycroft didn't really comprehend swept over him.

"So, if your new, you won't have made many friends then," Anthea stated as they wandered towards the cafeteria together.

"Nah I guess not," acknowledged Greg. He spotted Mycroft close-by now. "Just one. And now you."

"Aww shucks," she answered, with a hint of friendly mocking. "I've never had a large friend group. Just me, my best friend best friend Cat, and my boyfriend, Dimmock. You're welcome to sit with us anytime though. I might even know a few guys I could set you up with, if you're single."

Greg turned to her with raised eyebrows. "What? Not single?" she asked.

"No, I am single. I'm just wondering how you knew it would be guys you'd be setting me up with."

"Ah. Well despite not being the sort of guy you can classify as gay just by looking at them, there's just something about you. Call it intuition. So, I was right?"

"Yeah." By now they had reached Mycroft. "Anthea, this is Mycroft, Mycroft, this is Anthea. I got partnered with her in Chem."

Mycroft barely noticed that Anthea was there. His mind was on the last snippet of the conversation that he'd caught just as Greg and Anthea had reached him.

"So, do you two handsome men want to join us for lunch then?" Anthea asked, making Mycroft's attention snap back to the here and now. Greg looked at him inquiringly. Not trusting himself to speak, he shrugged with a plastered on smile. Greg took this to be an ok, and the three of them moved towards the cafeteria together.

Mycroft's mind was still elsewhere. Greg was gay. This was bad.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 – The boy can't help it, it's not his fault.

Mycroft's mind was still elsewhere. Greg was gay. This was bad.

They moved into the cafeteria and Anthea led them over to a table where two others were seated. "Cat and Dimmock," she said, indicating the girl and boy sitting at the table. The girl had bright blue eyes and her face was framed by honey waves. The boy was tall with short dark hair.

Anthea then introduced Mycroft and Greg to the other pair, and greetings were exchanged as they took a seat at the table. Mycroft's attention was still off.

Greg was gay.

Mycroft thought back to the previous night. As he'd sat and contemplated the success of his first day, he'd thought about Greg. About his messy brown hair. About his deep dark eyes. About the jeans he'd worn the day before which made his legs look deceptively long. These thoughts had continued until Mycroft chastised himself. Yes, Greg was attractive, but he was also the first person to ever try and be Mycroft's friend. And for that reason, acknowledging the fact that he was attractive was not ok. Anyway, there was no way Greg was gay.

Or so Mycroft had believed.

Mycroft had been quiet during lunch. This worried Greg. He'd taken immediately to Anthea, Cat and Dimmock. Anthea was bright and bubbly and friendly, whilst Cat was quiet, but witty when she did speak up. Dimmock, -apparently his first name was Craig, but he had always gone by his surname – reminded him of his mate Crissy from back home, and they'd discovered over the course of lunch that they shared quite a lot of interests. All in all, Greg had enjoyed lunch. But Mycroft had been reserved and seemed uncomfortable. Greg felt a little bit annoyed. He liked Mycroft, but yesterday, Mycroft hadn't made any real effort with Greg either. Greg had enjoyed lunch in the company of the other three, and would have liked to continue to eat with them, but he'd befriended Mycroft first and if Mycroft didn't like them, then Greg guessed he'd have to just forget about his 3 new friends.

Mycroft and Greg walked in silence to English Lit. All through the lesson, Mycroft's mind stayed on the revelation over Greg's sexuality. It was ridiculous. Greg was gay. Mycroft was too. But that didn't mean anything. Two gay guys can be friends without wanting anything more. Except, Mycroft thought he might want more.

It really was ridiculous. Mycroft had only known the boy for a day.

The lesson passed unremarkably, and they both had independent study last again. Without talking they both just headed off together to the form room. Once they were seated, Greg decided it was time to break the silence.

"You okay, mate? You've been quiet all day."

"Hmm, sorry. Yeah I'm fine," replied Mycroft, but Greg wasn't convinced.

"If you don't like Anthea and her friends, we don't have to hang out with them."

This surprised Mycroft. Greg had made new friends, but had said that _'they'_ didn't have to hang out with them. Which meant that if Mycroft hadn't liked them, Greg would have hung out with him over them.

"Not at all. They seemed nice," answered Mycroft. In reality, he hadn't paid enough attention during lunch to form an opinion on any of the three. "I'm just not used to such large groups. Not much of a people person."

5 was not a large group in Greg's opinion. His friend group in Dorset varied according to other responsibilities, like football, tutoring, babysitting siblings, and cold fluctuate from 3 people, to about 15. Still, if what Mycroft had said on the phone yesterday was true, then maybe he'd never had any friends, never mind a group of friends.

"That's okay. We don't have to sit with them."

Mycroft thought about it. Maybe a group would make it easier to mask his new feelings for Greg.

"No, I'd like to. It's about time I became more social," stated Mycroft, and with that, the boys started to work on the little homework they had in a comfortable silence.

The bell rang signalling the end of the day. Greg made a quick scribble on a bit on paper that he'd been plotting a graph on and tore it off. As they shoved their textbooks and notebooks in their bags, Greg held out the scrap of paper towards to Mycroft.

"There's my number. Text me and we can maybe hang out tonight if you're not busy."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 – Come on over to my place.

"There's my number. Text me and we can maybe hang out tonight if you're not busy."

Greg thought back to that moment as he walked home that afternoon. The look on Mycroft's face was a mixture of being pleased but surprised, with maybe a tiny bit of apprehension. The look had been very cute.

From what he'd seen of the genius over the last 2 days, Greg had thought him to be quite cool and calculating. Yet the look of wonder when he'd handed him his number had destroyed that facade. Teaming that with his comments about being unsociable, had Greg betting that he'd had a tough time at Comprehensive. He really was just a vulnerable teenager, and for some reason, the fact that Greg had been allowed a glimpse of Mycroft's vulnerability had made the auburn teen very attractive in Greg's mind.

Even as Mycroft opened the front door to Holmes manor, he was still reeling from the exchange with Greg in the form room. Greg was genuinely interested in being his friend. For most, it wouldn't be hard to believe, but for Mycroft Holmes, it was nothing short of a miracle.

As he turned to hang up his coat he was startled by arms suddenly around his neck and a weight on his back. He'd normally be mad, but that afternoon, he chuckled.

"Sherlock, I've told you before not to launch yourself at me. Especially just as I get in the door."

Sherlock studied his older brother's face, which bore an uncharacteristic smile. "You're happy?" enquired Sherlock, with a slight hint of an accusation. Mycroft merely smiled wider whilst examining his younger brother. Sherlock also seemed brighter than usual.

"And you made a friend, Lockie." Unlike Sherlock, Mycroft made this a statement, not a question. The younger boy squirmed a little under the other's gaze, before the smile he'd been so obviously trying to restrain spread across his face.

"Yes. He's so interesting. He shouldn't be. His names John. That's a boring and common name. But John's not boring or common. And he's nice to me." Sherlock was rambling a mile a minute. The little guy was obviously happy and that only increased Mycroft's good mood.

"Wait," commanded Sherlock, abruptly ceasing his chatter about his new friend John, to gaze at Mycroft again. "You made friends too. Tell me about them," he demanded.

Mycroft was not entirely sure he wanted to tell his 10 year old brother about Greg. He certainly wouldn't be talking about the growing feelings he had towards Greg with him. Nonetheless, he decided to indulge Sherlock a little.

"Just one. I have met a few others, but I'm not sure they're my friends just yet. His name is Greg and he's in my sign in group. Moved from Dorset so doesn't have friends at college either." Mycroft thought about it for a minute and then added, "I think we might make plans tonight actually."

Sherlock beamed at his older brother. "Oh good, it will save me from worrying about you being here alone since I'm going to John's later. And before you say a word Myc, I know how to behave."

Mycroft gave his brother a playful shove and headed up to his room. He needed to think about how to proceed with Greg. He wanted to text immediately, but didn't want to seem too clingy. But then, Greg had told him to text. And then there was the problem of what they would do if they made plans. Holmes manor was impressive, but it wasn't fun, so that ruled out inviting Greg over here. Beyond that, Mycroft didn't have any past experiences to draw on when it came to friends and 'hanging out' as Greg had termed it. He was at a loss.

Then a plan came to him. A plan that would put the ball back in Greg's court. He lifted his phone and retrieved his bag where he fished out the scrap of paper that the number had been scribbled on. After adding it as a contact, he wrote out a message.

_Message_

_To: Greg Lestrade. _

_Hey. This is my number_

_Mycroft _

Greg was busy making coffee for his mum, who had just gotten home. They'd decided that neither of them could be bothered cooking, so they were just going to get a takeaway later. Greg sent off a few replies in his group chat, hearing about the gang's day, while his mother filled him in on her Year 3s. Only two days in, but it was clear she loved it already. His phone buzzed again, and he was surprised to see a number rather than a name appear on the screen. It shouldn't have been surprising, he had given Mycroft his number and_ told_ him to text, but he'd thought the boy would chicken out. It was a pleasant surprise, and after saving the number, he typed out a reply.

_Message_

_To: Mycroft_

_Cheers mate. What are u doing 2night?_

_G_

He got an immediate reply back.

_Message_

_From: Mycroft._

_No plans. You?_

_Message_

_To: Mycroft._

_Takeaway with my Mum. U should join us, we could watch a DVD or something afterwards?_

Greg didn't know what had possessed him to ask Mycroft over, but it was done now. He belatedly checked with his mum that it would be ok for someone to come over. Sarah was only pleased that Greg was making friends, since she'd assumed much of his form already had their own friendship circles. Greg quickly explained that his new friend Mycroft was new too, so they'd been in the same boat. He then turned his attention back to his phone, wondering what he'd get in reply.

Mycroft glanced again at the screen of his mobile which he'd thrown down beside him on the bed. The message hadn't changed. Greg had invited him round. Now he was in despair as he had no idea what to do next. As if his hands were acting without co-ordination with his brain, he found himself lifting the mobile and replying.

_Message_

_To: Greg Lestrade._

_That sounds lovely. Where and when?_

He regretted it almost immediately, but a reply pinged back before he had much time to dwell on it.

_Message_

_From: Greg Lestrade._

_16 St. Georges Drive. And anytime u want. We'll order food about 8 so before then __J_

St. Georges Dr. That was about a 20 minute walk from Holmes manor. He supposed he could ask one of the drivers to take him, but thought the walk would probably calm his nerves. He sent off a message telling Greg he'd be about 40 minutes, so that he had time to go get changed before leaving to walk over there. The housekeeper/nanny had just returned from dropping off Sherlock, so Mycroft let her know he was going out, before slipping out the door of the manner.

If 2 days ago, someone had told Mycroft that he'd actually make a friend at college, and be invited round to theirs, he'd have laughed in their face.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 – Ain't nobody on the other line.

If 2 days ago, someone had told Mycroft that he'd actually make a friend at college, and be invited round to theirs, he'd have laughed in their face.

Right now though, Mycroft didn't think it was a laughing matter. As he walked past the first few houses on St. Georges Drive, he fought the urge to turn and run back to Holmes manor. Maybe he'd been better off alone, seeing as how the prospect of friendship put the fear of god in him.

Despite this, he walked up the path towards the door of number 16. He used the knocker and waited. The door was opened by a smiling women whose age Mycroft estimated to be 37. One look at her eyes and even a non-genius would know who she was. The deep dark eyes, identical to Greg's, told Mycroft that this was him mother.

"Hi Mrs Lestrade, is Greg home?" the teen asked somewhat nervously.

The woman smiled again, whilst beckoning him in. "You must be Mycroft. And the name is Sarah, you're not one of my Year 3s, so there's no need to call me Mrs Lestrade." With this she pointed up the stairs. "Go on up, it's the door straight in front of you at the top of the stairs."

Mycroft thanked her and headed up the stairs. When he reached the door at the end of the hall, he knocked quietly.

"Come in," called a voice from the other side, so Mycroft pushed open the door. He glanced across to where Greg was lying on his stomach on his bed, legs bent at the knee against the headboard, and a magazine spread in front of him. He was wearing a pair of brightly patterned surfer style shorts, with a t-shirt which Mycroft couldn't see a lot of given that he was lying on his front.

Greg looked up to see Mycroft looking at him. "Oh hi, Mycroft," he said sounding a bit surprised. He'd expected his mum to call him down rather than send the teen straight up here. Not for any other reason than so that her son could greet Mycroft properly. Sarah knew that Greg was gay, and also knew that he'd been sexually active with partners in the past, but her son was 16 and had reached the legal age of consent, so she trusted him to make good decisions. So it wasn't weird that she'd allowed Mycroft up to his room, it had just surprised him when the teen had wandered in.

Greg looked at Mycroft as he stood in the entryway to his bedroom. He was wearing perfectly pressed trousers, with a shirt and v-necked jumper. Mycroft's dress sense confused Greg. Greg relished the fact that the college didn't have a uniform, so he could wear whatever he wanted, but for the past 2 days Mycroft had been in a formal ensemble, much like the one he wore now. Add to that the fact that the second he had crossed the threshold into the house that afternoon Greg had peeled off the skinny jeans and hoody he'd worn at college that day in favour of comfy shorts, and there couldn't have been more of a contrast between the two boys.

Not that Mycroft wasn't attractive in what he was wearing though, thought Greg. He just wondered what the auburn haired teen would look like in something less formal. He manoeuvred himself until he was sitting near the top of his double bed with his legs crossed, Indian style, and patted a space in front of him, gesturing for Mycroft to sit.

As Mycroft settled himself at the bottom end of Greg's bed, Greg enquired as to what he'd like to do. It was 6.50 and they would be ordering food at around 8pm, so had a bit of time. After a bit of discussion, they decided to watch something on Netflix. Greg lifted his Macbook from the desk, and switched it on. As he waited on everything loading, he asked Mycroft what sort of TV he liked to watch. Despite not watching much TV, he admitted to being hooked on Game of Thrones, which pleased Greg since it was one of his favourites. Since neither boy had seen the previous week's episode yet, they decided to watch that, and moved to where they could both easily see the laptop screen, while consciously each keeping a distance from the other.

The episode had just begun to stream when a box appeared on the screen and a ringing notified them that Greg was being called on Skype. Greg kicked himself for not shutting down Skype, which starts automatically when the computer switches on, before they had loaded the episode. He looked towards Mycroft apologetically.

"Answer it, I don't mind," Mycroft urged, guessing that it would be one of Greg's friends from Dorset and not wanting to keep him from talking with them.

Greg answered the call without activating video and immediately the person on the other side started to whine. Greg hadn't paid attention to the name of the caller, and was only just realising it was Gunnar.

_"Aww come on Greggy, where's your sexy face. It's coming up on a month since I saw you last and I'm suffering withdrawals"_

Mycroft felt unwarranted hatred towards whoever owned that voice. The boy was obviously flirting with Greg and he didn't like it. Then a thought struck him, - maybe Greg had left behind a boyfriend in Dorset. It hadn't even occurred to him that whilst Greg _was_ gay, he might not even be single. Mycroft didn't want to think about it.

"Not tonight Gunnar, sorry," answered Greg. "I was just about to have takeaway with my mum."

Whilst this wasn't a lie, Greg had deliberately omitted the fact that he had Mycroft over, as he hadn't wanted the poor boy to be subjected to Gunnar's intimidations just yet. Mycroft, on the other hand, assumed that this omission was just further proof that Greg was in a relationship with this Gunnar person, and had obviously neglected to tell him that Mycroft was there to stop him from getting jealous.

_"Ah, right sweetcheeks, I'll let you go then. I was really just phoning to tell you that my Ma and Da cleared it for you to stay during the October half term. Give Mummy Lestrade my love,"_ the disembodied voice answered before cancelling the call.

If there had been any doubt in Mycroft's mind it was gone now. Greg simply switched back to the window where Game of Thrones was paused, and set it to play, saying "Sorry about him."

Mycroft shrugged and turned his attention to the TV programme, hiding the irrational hurt that he felt. He'd only known Greg for 2 days, so he shouldn't feel so attached already. They watched the episode in silence, with it finishing just as Sarah called them down to ask what kind of pizza they wanted.

Mycroft sat at the small table in the kitchen whilst Sarah phoned their order, and Greg retrieved drinks for them all. Greg returned to the table with 3 cans of Coke just as Sarah came back telling them the food would be 20 mins. She asked Mycroft if he would like a plate or cutlery, knowing that Greg would just eat with his hands.

Greg was surprised to hear Mycroft decline his mother's offer of plate and cutlery. Something told him that Mycroft wouldn't be well practiced in eating with his hands. After retrieving a plate for herself, Sarah joined the boys at the table.

"Gunnar sends his love, Mum. Mr and Mrs Scott have said it's ok for me to stay for a few days during half-term," Greg informed her.

"Aww, what a sweetheart. And that's kind of them. I know you miss him, and all the others too, so it will be nice for you to visit," replied his mother. Mycroft zoned out as she inquired as to how the others back in Dorset are liking their new college, and Greg informs her of all the news he's been kept up to date on through their group chat. He doesn't want to hear about that.

The food arrived and the 3 began sharing out the two medium pizzas and the sides of garlic bread and wedges. As they ate, Sarah asked Mycroft about himself – how long he's lived in the area, about his family, what A-levels he is taking. He seemed to answer without hesitancy, but Greg got the feeling that he was uncomfortable. He wondered briefly about this, since the boy had seemed fine earlier, before his Skype call with Gunnar, but he pushed it to the back of his mind and filled himself with pizza.

After the food had been devoured, Sarah asked if Mycroft had to be home by a certain time, and if he was being picked up. Mycroft really wanted to leave already, but didn't want to seem ungrateful to Sarah who had been so welcoming, so he just told her he had no curfew but would leave soon and would phone to be picked up when he was leaving. Greg looked a little sad at the prospect of him going soon, which Sarah caught, and assured Mycroft that she wasn't asking so that he would be encouraged to leave, stating that he would be welcome to stay as late as he wanted as long as his parents were ok with it. Mycroft really didn't have a curfew and his parents weren't around to enforce it even if there had been one. With that, Greg dragged Mycroft back up the stairs where he proposed they watch an episode of True Detective before Mycroft leaves. Mycroft has never heard of the series, but Greg assured him that it's good and stuck on the first episode. A few minutes in though, he paused it and turned to Mycroft.

"I'm sorry Gunnar's call interrupted us earlier, I was enjoying finding out what we had in common"

"Its fine Greg," said Mycroft, despite the fact that it wasn't fine. "I can't expect you to ignore your boyfriend's calls just because I'm here. It must be hard, him being back in Dorset."

That got Greg's attention. Was that what had changed after his call with Gunnar? Mycroft thought Gunnar and him were dating. Ok, Greg could understand that. He and Gunnar did act and talk a bit over familiarly, but that's just how they were. The spark of that particular teen romance had fizzled out over 6 months ago, and now they were just good friends. But that still didn't explain the sudden change in Mycroft's attitude.

Unless... No, the only possibility was that Mycroft was interested in him, and that just couldn't be true.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 - If it's true, you can see it with your eyes.

Unless... No, the only possibility was that Mycroft was interested in him, and that just couldn't be true.

"Gunnar's not my boyfriend," stated Greg, unsure of where this conversation was going to go. "I mean, he was. But we, um, split up just at the beginning of the year." He wasn't sure why he was so nervous.

Mycroft felt a weird kind of relief sweep over him at this news. "Ah, sorry. You just seemed as though you're really close to each other. I shouldn't have mentioned it."

"Nah, it's not like that Mycroft. I'm not hung up on him, he didn't break my heart. We both decided it wasn't working anymore, but we're still close mates. And yeah, we still use pet names, and seem over friendly but there's nothing there anymore." Greg felt like he was pushing this point a bit much, and wasn't willing to think about why.

Was Mycroft interested in him? From what Greg had gathered, until 2 days ago, Mycroft had never had a friend, never mind a relationship. Mycroft was a genius, so despite his lack of previous social interactions, surely even he should realise that alienating you're first friend by developing feelings for them is a bit not good. Yet, Greg was actually pleased at the prospect that Mycroft might have feelings for him.

Greg stole a quick glance at Mycroft. He was perched on the very edge of the bed, as though ready to run away any second, and was apparently fascinated by his cuffs. Greg was right then.

Why did this thought please him so much?

Greg shifted back against the headboard as he tried to gather his thoughts. If he was honest with himself, he was interested in Mycroft too. He was very attractive, in a prim and proper kind of way, and his incredible mix of intelligence and naivety was completely endearing. But he was really the only person Greg knew at Baker Street, except for Anthea, and he didn't want to ruin what could turn out to be a great friendship by pushing for more.

Mycroft was still worrying at his cuff and didn't seem like he was going to stop anytime soon, so Greg moved again so he was sitting on the edge of the bed beside him.

As the bed shifted again, Mycroft fought the urge to run away. His reactions to the conversation about Gunnar had been too obvious, and now Greg knew that he liked him. He'd ruined the only friendship he'd ever had after only 2 days. What was wrong with him?

"What's wrong, Mycroft?" Silence followed.

"Right, I know we've only known each other 2 days, and you've admitted to not being very social, but I think we're friends," Greg persevered. "And because we're friends, I invited you round tonight so I could get to know you. Something went wrong somewhere though, 'cause now you're upset. So please talk to me about it because that's what friends do."

Mycroft finally raised his gaze and found Greg watching him with concern in his eyes. Tears threatened.

"I'm just being stupid, Greg. It's about time I went home anyway, sorry for ruining your night." With that Mycroft stood and moved towards the door. He took his phone from his pocket as he crossed the room, ready to phone for a driver once he got outside.

Suddenly, he felt a hand wrap around his other wrist. "No," said Greg. "You're going to stay here and talk to me."

Mycroft twisted away to try and release his wrist from Greg's grip. He wasn't being forceful, so it was easy to break.

"Talking won't help. If anything, my patheticness will only drive you further away."

Greg's heart melted. He was too far gone. Mycroft was obviously so used to being held in contempt by everyone that he couldn't even see that Greg really wanted to be his friend, let alone the hints of anything further. Greg wanted to ease some of that pain. He wanted to show Mycroft that he shouldn't be worried about the feelings that he'd started to feel towards Greg, because they were reciprocated. Yes, Greg acknowledged that there probably wouldn't be any going back if he did. There wouldn't be a salvageable friendship if it didn't last, the way there had been with Gunnar. But knowing how upset Mycroft was, Greg thought the risk was worth it if he felt better.

It was silly. Greg knew this. They'd known each other less than 48 hours, yet here Greg was, willing to do anything to comfort someone who was practically a stranger. It really was madness.

He couldn't stop himself though.

He reached out for the wrist again, and this time tugged when he caught it. Not too forcefully, but enough to lead Mycroft back over to his bed. He drew himself up and pushed down on the taller boy's shoulders so that Mycroft sat, back on the edge of the bed. Greg re-took the space next to him.

"If you won't talk, then will you please listen?" Greg asked. Mycroft lifted his head to look at Greg and nodded slightly. "Tonight's taken a weird turn, and it's all to do with my call with Gunnar. You were fine up until then, happily chatting about TV and what not. But something made you think he was my boyfriend and you sorta clammed up. That suggests to me that maybe you're attracted to me or interested in me."

Mycroft visibly cringed, but stayed silent and let Greg continue.

"That's not a bad thing, or anything to be ashamed about." As Greg said this, a question came to mind that he hadn't thought of before. "Are you worried because you like me in particular, or because you like a boy?"

Mycroft was taken aback a bit by the question. "I'm not out to my family, and I don't have any friends, but I've known I'm gay for years now." It was the truth.

"Ah, that's good. But you shouldn't be upset about liking me either. I know it might seem ridiculous after just 2 days, but sometimes you're just drawn to people. I know you're not experienced in friendships, so I guess you're not in relationships either, but it does happen. I'm flattered by your interest, and find myself really attracted to you too, and would love to get to know you better if you let me."

The last part had Mycroft gobsmacked. Greg claimed to be attracted to him. He felt like this admission should have made him elated, but it did nothing to qualm all of Mycroft's fears.

"You don't have to pretend, Greg."

Greg stared hard at the younger teen. "I know you've probably had a hard time with people. Kids at school who didn't understand your intelligence and all that. But not everyone is like that. I wanted to be your friend, I still do, and I also think you're pretty fit. Ok, you dress a bit oddly, but it doesn't distract me from your lovely red hair, or your cute freckles. Not to mention your eyes. You have gorgeous eyes Mycroft. None of what I'm saying is lies, or pity. It's the truth."

Mycroft just stared back, disbelieving. Eventually he recovered the power of speech.

"I don't want to ruin our friendship," he said.

Greg rested a hand on the arm nearest him. "Look Mycroft, I'm not saying it wouldn't be hard. But I think if we both harbour these feelings without acting on them, it will probably ruin the friendship anyway. So, isn't it better that we at least try? We don't know each other well, and you don't have experience, so we'd take it slowly anyway. I meant what I said when I said I wanted to get to know you."

This buoyed Mycroft a little. Maybe it wasn't all bad.

"Feel better now?" Greg asked. Mycroft flashed a quick smile in reply, knowing that attempting to form words was futile. "Good."

They stayed perched on the edge of the bed in silence for a few minutes. Greg watched Mycroft intently as he went back to worrying at his cuff. Mycroft felt Greg's gaze on him and lifted his head to attempt another, more convincing smile.

Greg was poised, and as Mycroft turned towards him, he leaned forward pressing his lips gently against Mycroft's.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8 - It's a whole lot harder to shine, than undermine

Greg was poised, and as Mycroft turned towards him, he leaned forward pressing his lips gently against Mycroft's.

Mycroft didn't have time to react. The kiss was soft, warm, and light – nothing more than a peck, but perfect all the same.

Greg leaned back, returning to just watching Mycroft. His eyes fluttered open again, and this time when he smiled at Greg, it was clearly genuine. They held each other gazes for a moment before Greg wrapped his arms around Mycroft and pulled him close.

Mycroft wasn't disillusioned. He knew the experiences of most other 15 year old boys went far beyond 1 chaste kiss and a cuddle, but his heart soared anyway. All the negative feelings from earlier that night were swept away.

When Greg broke away from hug, he checked the time. 10.37pm. Time had flown by since they went downstairs to eat, passing quickly in the emotional turmoil.

"I don't want rid of you, but it's getting late Mycroft," reasoned Greg. "We have college in the morning."

Mycroft knew Greg was right, but he definitely didn't want to leave. Reluctantly he retrieved his phone from his pocket and dialled Holmes manor, asking to be picked up as soon as possible. He just didn't want the night to end so soon. One look at Greg told Mycroft that he was struggling with the same conundrum.

Knowing that whatever driver was working would arrive soon, he steeled himself, ready to say goodbye to his new sweetheart. Once again, Greg drew him in and pressed a sweet kiss to Mycroft's lips. He then backed away and headed downstairs, with Mycroft following. Mycroft said thank you and goodnight to Sarah, who was sat at the table in the kitchen planning lessons, before heading for the door.

As Mycroft walked down the path to the black car idling at the pavement's edge, Greg called out.

"See you in the morning."

"I can't wait," replied Mycroft, but deliberately too quiet for Greg to hear.

Mycroft entered his bedroom and quietly shut the door. He then turned to rest his forehead against the door while he paused to run through the evening in his mind.

"It's late," said a voice from somewhere in the darkened room.

"Sherlock, why aren't you sleeping?" asked the older brother.

"I was waiting on you. I wanted to tell you about my evening at John's and hear about your night."

Mycroft thought again about his phonecall with his brother yesterday. Sherlock was beginning to deal with emotions more readily. He was opening up. Mycroft felt so much love for the little boy, and didn't want him to suffer the way he had, so these signs pleased Mycroft.

Mycroft approached his bed and flicked on the lamps on either side. This illuminated the curly black haired head which was just visible poking out from under a mound of duvet. Mycroft chuckled at the sight.

"Ok, Lockie. A quick chat, but then you must go to your room and sleep. You have school in the morning," reasoned Mycroft. He mind flashed to Greg and how he had used similar reasoning to convince Mycroft to go home. "How was John's?"

"Oh, Myc I had a great time. His family is so wonderful, and we went to a park and..." Sherlock launched into a full scale debriefing from his night. It was wonderful to see him so upbeat and excited about something, especially a something which involved him being social. Mycroft only wished he had had an older brother to guide him the way he tried to guide Sherlock, rather than having been left to figure it out alone.

Sherlock finished telling Mycroft about his night. "How was your night Myc?"

Mycroft blushed a little and Sherlock looked at him puzzled for a moment. "You kissed him didn't you?" Sherlock asked.

Mycroft nodded. Sherlock slid from under the duvet and made for the door. A few steps before he reached the threshold, he turned.

"Well done on alienating the only person who has ever wanted to be your friend. Some genius you are," said the young boy scathingly, before walking out and closing the door.

Mycroft couldn't understand why Sherlock had reacted that way. But it hurt. Hearing his biggest fear vocalized by an external party sent a shot of regret through him.

Maybe Sherlock's social skills still had a long way to go after all.

The next morning, Mycroft and Sherlock's exchange from the night before was forgotten. Mycroft went through his morning routine just as he normally would. Unlike the previous morning, the new excitement he felt over going to college was tinged with doubt. What if Greg had changed his mind? And even if he hadn't, how were they going to act at college?

Mycroft didn't like things that he didn't understand, and luckily there weren't many things that he didn't understand, but he didn't understand this.

Greg awoke that Wednesday morning with a smile on his face. He stretched and revelled in the happiness he felt that morning. He'd lain awake after Mycroft left the previous night, thinking over his doubts. He'd been right in what he'd told Mycroft. If they both felt things for the other but kept it to themselves, it would be just as destructive as giving it a go and it not working out. Appeased, he'd fallen into an easy, dreamless sleep, and felt completely refreshed now.

After dressing and having a quick piece of toast with his mum, he headed out to college, 15 minutes earlier than he had on the other days. He hadn't felt this giddiness over someone since the early days between him and Gunnar, and he was just eager to see the gorgeous red head.

As he turned on to Baker Street, he watched as the door opened on a familiar black car that was stopped just outside the gates. As he watched as Mycroft slid from the car, he gave a whistle and broke into a jog to close the 100 yards between.

At the sound of the whistle, Mycroft turned to see Greg coming towards him. His face broke into a smile as he shut the door of the car and walked forward to Greg. The happiness that showed clearly on Greg's face was enough to wash away the nerves he'd been feeling, although now he was internally stressing about how to greet his companion.

Greg saved him the worry, as he threw his arm around Mycroft's shoulder. He didn't know how comfortable Mycroft would be with PDAs and so settled for this, which provided contact, but wouldn't be overwhelming for the younger teen.

"Morning", Greg said with a smile.

"Hey," replied Mycroft, looking more relaxed now. Without discussing it, they crossed the carpark together and headed into the building to 2a1. Greg removed his arm from around Mycroft's shoulders as they walked up the stairs. 2a1 was still deserted; it was still before 8am after all. They went to their desks, but rather than sit down, Greg perched himself on his desk, legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles.

"What are your plans for this afternoon?" Greg asked. There was no teaching at any of the Sixth Form colleges in the area on a Wednesday afternoon. The day finished when lunch would normally start, and the two hours after the designated lunch period was when games for the college sports teams would be played, or rehearsals for the drama society, and other extracurricular clubs. Greg intended to try out for the college football team, but extracurriculars didn't start until next week, so that left the afternoon free.

"I don't have any," replied Mycroft. "We could do something if you liked, but I have to be home by my usual time to see to Sherlock."

Greg didn't understand why Mycroft had been lumped with the responsibility of his younger brother. He'd mentioned last night when Sarah had asked about curfews that his parents weren't home, and it sounded to Greg like they were absent a lot. Greg made a note to ask about it later. There was so much he didn't know about Mycroft, and he intended to find out about it all.

"Yeah, got anything in mind?"

"Uhm... You could come to mine. Then I wouldn't have to worry about being back in time for Sherlock." Mycroft wasn't sure what possessed him to suggest this, but it was too late now. "There's not much to do there, but we could watch that series you suggested last night. You can stay for dinner too if your mum doesn't mind."

Greg was surprised. He might have only known Mycroft 2 days, but the boy was socially awkward, and Greg had expected that he would have to do all the work in the beginning until Mycroft became a bit more comfortable in the relationship. And yet, here he was inviting him over.

"Sounds great."

The boys passed the time before sign in just chatting. Greg mentioned his intention to try out for the football team; Mycroft expressed outright the fact that he didn't like the game. Mycroft told Greg that he was going to join the College Orchestra. Greg spoke about playing guitar; Mycroft about piano and the cello. They laughed and enjoyed the company of the other.

The day passed quickly. They spent the morning break with Anthea and Cat in the form room, and Mycroft didn't seem quite as uptight in their company as he had the day before. Anthea talked about how she wanted to join the orchestra, since she played the oboe. She and Mycroft bonded over music, and Greg was pleased to see this.

The boys had double English Lit as the last two classes of their day. When the bell rang they headed out. Greg had text his mum to let her know he wouldn't be eating at home that night, and asked if she wanted him back by a certain time. She'd text back saying he could stay out as late as he wanted, but to remember he had college in the morning. They climbed into the car that was waiting, and Greg thought about what the afternoon might hold for them. What was Mycroft's house like? Would Sherlock like him? Did Mycroft's bedroom have posters up? All manner of nonsense flowed through his head as they made the short journey to Holmes manor.

It would be an interesting afternoon.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9 – There'll be no trace that one was once two.

It would be an interesting afternoon.

Greg was astonished by Holmes manor. It was a stunning period mansion set on lush and well tended grounds. Greg couldn't help but throw his arms out and twirl around to take it all in like in some clichéd movie. Mycroft laughed heartily at the sight. They left the driver behind as they made their way into the house, and they were just over the threshold when the housekeeper/nanny appeared. Mycroft introduced the woman as Miss Hainey. She greeted the boys eagerly and enquired as to what they'd like for lunch. Mycroft suggested they go through to what he termed the "sitting room" whilst they waited on lunch. The room was unlike any room Greg had ever heard called a sitting room. Its walls were panelled on the lower half; the other painted a deep red. A plush ruby coloured sofa sat at its centre, joined by two matching armchairs. There were shelves all along one wall, filled with books. It was a gorgeous room, if not a little ostentatious for Greg.

Mycroft sat himself in one of the armchairs, whilst Greg flopped down on the sofa. Miss Hainey came into the room with a tray containing sandwiches and sodas for the boys. She sat the tray on the coffee table and retreated from the room.

"She seems nice," said Greg, attempting to make small talk as he reached for a sandwich.

"Yes, she's a godsend when my parents aren't here. As well as looking after the house and doing things like grocery shopping, she also acts as Sherlock's nanny, meaning I don't have to be on hand all of the time."

"Are they absent a lot, your parents?" Greg felt like he might be intruding a bit, but asked anyway.

Mycroft didn't seem to mind. "Quite a bit. Father works in government and spends a lot of time abroad. Mummy works in the city, and has a small apartment adjoined to her office there. She often works late and has early meetings, so prefers just to stay there."

This made Greg sad. He'd only ever had his mum, but she'd given up everything so that she had the time to be in his life. She was only just getting her life back because of it, but he knew she didn't regret it at all, because he was her world. Greg couldn't understand people who had children, just to create the perfect family image, - which he expected was the case here – only to palm them off on nannies. He kept these thoughts to himself.

"You must miss them."

"They were never really here enough to give me something to miss. They've always been the way they are."

Greg decided not to pursue the subject any further so the room lapsed into silence while they ate their lunch. Once they were done, Mycroft returned the tray to the kitchen, and suggested they go upstairs.

Greg had been looking forward to seeing Mycroft's room. His natural habitat, as it were. The place where he left behind the immaculate formal persona he projected, and became himself. He was disappointed. The room lacked any personal touches.

Mycroft went over to his desk, opened a drawer, and took out his laptop. He started it up.

"Do you want to watch that TV show from last night?" Mycroft asked, still a bit uneasy at having company in his house. It was a new situation.

"True Detective? Sure, I think you'll like it. It's not one of those shows whose plots are immediately obvious. It keeps you guessing."

Mycroft decided to reserve judgement, and started the episode streaming. He moved to the head of the bed and sat Indian style against the headboard, with the laptop on the bed in front. Greg moved up beside Mycroft, only with his legs stretched out, and his head resting against Mycroft's shoulder. At first Mycroft clammed up at the contact, but about ten minutes in, he relaxed a bit, withdrawing his arm which was between himself and Gregory, and laying it across Greg's shoulders whilst Greg settled in to the space. It felt like they fit.

The storyline had piqued Mycroft's interest, and he was just getting into it when Greg decided he's rather talk.

"I always thought about being a copper. Obviously not like Rust and Marty, and I doubt I'd ever catch a case like this one, but yeah, I like the idea," said Greg.

"Yeah? I don't know what I want to do. I'm expected to succeed my father, but I haven't decided yet," Mycroft replied.

"Mum doesn't like the idea. I understand why, but what happened with my Dad just makes me want to do it more. And Mycroft Holmes – British Government does have a nice ring to it."

Mycroft laughed, "What about Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade? Sounds good, doesn't it?"

Greg lifted his head to smile at Mycroft and then they settled down again to watch the rest of the episode.

Greg has gotten Mycroft hooked. After the first episode finished, Mycroft immediately put on the next. He wanted to know what happened to Dora. Greg couldn't help but laugh.

The second episode was five minutes from the end when they both heard noises on the stairs, and then coming along the hallway. The door burst open.

"Mycroft, is it ok if..." The small curly haired boy looked at the scene in front of him. "Oh."

"Sherlock, this is Greg," Mycroft told him, removing his arm from around Greg, making Greg sit up properly.

The boy just stared at Greg, but didn't say a word.

"Nice to meet you Sherlock, mate," said Greg as he smiled at the younger boy.

Still no reply.

Mycroft decided to deal with it. "You were going to ask me something?"

Sherlock finally came to his senses. "Oh yes. I was wondering if John could come round for tea. His mother said it was fine and that she would drop him off and pick him up if I got permission."

"Then, yes that's fine, as long as you can entertain yourselves. Greg is staying for dinner too."

"Ok, I will go and phone him and let him know." With that, Sherlock turned and fled from the room, closing the door loudly in his wake.

Greg turned to look at Mycroft. Mycroft just gave him a sheepish grin, and pulled him back into the position they'd been in before the interruption, un-pausing Netflix to watch the ending.

"Sorry about him."

After the second episode of True Detective ended, they stayed like that, happily curled up against each other. Mycroft asked about Greg's friends back in Dorset and he told him happily about them all, with the exception of Gunnar. Noticing this, Mycroft decided to attempt to clear the air by asking about his planned trip to visit during the October break. He's told about some festival that Greg's home town holds every October. Traditionally an end of season event for the tourist towns, Greg tells him about the parades and the fair, the music events and the rest. That's what he's returning for, and to see his friends of course. Since it's held at the weekend at the beginning of the half term holiday, Greg also hopes that some of the gang might be able to come up and stay for a few a days after.

The easy conversation continued, lapsing into comfortable silence a few times before one or the other thought of another topic. Greg relished the feeling of being close to the other teen, especially with the knowledge that he'd never let down his defences with anyone else before. They were learning lots about each other; their interests, music tastes, film tastes. Encouraged by the happy atmosphere, and that smile of Mycroft's that made his heart melt, Greg was emboldened. He knows that he'd told Mycroft that they'd take it slowly, but they felt so right in that moment, that he moved slightly in Mycroft's embrace, turned his head towards the younger teen, and surged forward, catching him in a kiss.

Mycroft was once again caught off-guard by Greg's kiss. This time was different. There was a little more force behind it this time, and after the initial shock, Mycroft relaxed into it. It stayed closed-mouthed, but it was enough. Greg didn't want to push his luck too much.

Greg pulled away. Mycroft looked a bit flushed, but happy. They smiled at each other, Greg's happy grin nearly making Mycroft's heart burst.

Mycroft checked the time on his watch; it was just coming up 5. Reluctantly, he suggested they go downstairs and sit with Sherlock. John would probably be arriving soon, and although he'd told Sherlock that they would have to entertain themselves, he was still going to partly responsible for the boys. He thought he should probably introduce himself to John's mum, in lieu of one of his parents. And he wanted to meet the boy who had become his little brother's first friend.

As they made their way down the hallway to the stairs, Mycroft took Greg's hand. He led him down the stairs and they went into the grand sitting room again. There they found Sherlock, sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table, doing some sort of homework.

Sherlock's actions earlier, and what Greg knew about the Holmes' boys lack of social skills suggested that the 10 year old was not going to make any effort, so Greg stepped up to the plate. Sherlock had looked at them with a slight disgusted expression when he saw Greg and Mycroft holding hands, but quickly turned his attentions back to what he'd been doing. Greg drew his hand out of Mycroft's and sat down on the floor beside the boy.

"Whatcha doing little man?"

Sherlock turned to stare at Greg, his obvious distaste at being called 'little man' painted on his face. He maintained his stare for a few moments, before his face cleared of all expression.

"Algebra."

Greg took a look at the sheets spread on the table. The boy was 10 years old. Greg was pretty sure that when he was 10 years old he'd barely known basic multiplication. Apparently genius ran in the family.

"They're trying to find our ability levels, so this homework has easy, medium, and difficult problems. Our teacher told us to do all the problems that we could. I think I have them all, except the last one on the difficult sheet," said Sherlock, looking a bit disappointed in himself.

Greg turned the sheet towards him, looking at the last problem under the difficult heading.

_Find the n__th__ term of the sequence 1, 10, 25, 46, 73, ..._

Greg took a bit of paper and a pencil, and looked again at the problem. He felt a little out of his depth, but wanted to help. He read the problem one last time, and started to scribble down working. He wrote something at the bottom of the scrap of paper and circled it. Sliding the scrap back to Sherlock, he told the boy to check it.

"3n2 -2. It looks correct and the working out seems solid. How?" Sherlock looked at Greg expectantly.

"Well, the second difference in the sequence is 6, so that makes the basis of the formula 3n2. 3n2 gives the sequence 3, 12, 27, 48 and so on. The difference between that sequence and our sequence is 2, making the nth term 3n2 -2," explained Greg.

Sherlock looked at Greg wide-eyed and then smiled. "Thank you. I understand it now."

Mycroft has been watching this exchange from one of the armchairs. He was completely unsure when Greg had plonked himself down next to Sherlock. There never was any telling how his younger brother would react in any given situation. But Greg had actually helped Sherlock. Mycroft was astounded. He had never seen his younger brother warm to anyone except him.

Bells chimed from a clock somewhere in the room, and Sherlock jumped up.

"That's 5 o'clock. John is arriving around 5," he cried out as he gathered up the papers from the table and hurried from the room.

Greg stood up from the floor and went to sit on the arm of the chair that Mycroft occupied.

"Thanks for helping him," he said. "I think he likes you."

Greg smiled. "No problem. I almost thought I was going to embarrass myself by not being able to solve it," he laughs.

Just at that, the doorbell chimes. Mycroft left the room to head to the front door and finds Sherlock careering down the stairs. Mycroft reached the door first, and opened it to reveal a middle aged, friendly looking woman standing on the step, with a short sandy-haired boy at her side.

"Hello. You must be John," Mycroft addressed the boy with a smile. He then looks at the mother. "You must be John's mum; sorry I don't think Sherlock told me your last name. I'm Mycroft, Sherlock's brother." He held out a hand.

"It's Watson. But you don't need to call me Mrs. Watson. Just Theresa will do," the woman answered as she shook his hand. "It's lovely to meet you. I'll be back for John around 9 if that's ok?"

"That's fine," answered Mycroft as he ushered the blonde boy in.

"Have fun boys," called Theresa to the retreating backs of John and Sherlock.

Mycroft told Theresa that he'd see her later and shut the door before going back to the sitting room. The younger boys were already in there.

"That's my brother Mycroft," Sherlock told John while pointing at him as he entered the room. "And that," he said pointing towards Greg, "is his boyfriend, Greg."

Greg said hello to John, and looked towards Mycroft, who was standing just inside the door biting his lip. They hadn't actually discussed what they were to each other. Yes, they'd shared a few quick kisses, but they were still getting to know each other, and it might still be early to be using the term boyfriend. They couldn't discuss it now though, with Sherlock and John in the room, so with a quick reassuring smile towards Mycroft, Greg just pushed the thought to the back of his mind.

The rest of the night passed without any problems. Mycroft and Greg elected to stay in the sitting room so that Mycroft could watch the boys. Sherlock and John had discussed early on in the evening what they would like to do, and had decided on watching a movie. They had chosen The Avengers, and had set it to play on a huge TV which was hidden in a cabinet in the sitting room. Sherlock had taken cushions on to the floor for him and John to sit on, and Mycroft and Greg had once again cuddled up against one another, this time on the sofa. They'd paused the film whilst the 4 boys had a dinner of bolognaise and garlic bread in the dining room, before going back and resuming it.

Towards the end of the film, Greg felt himself start to tire. It was only just after 8, but he felt exhausted. Mycroft had noticed, and told Greg that he'd get a car organised to take him home at around half past 8. Mycroft then suggested to Sherlock that if John wanted, he could call his mother and tell her there was no need to pick him up, and John could just take the car with Greg, since they both lived in roughly the same direction.

With that all organised, Greg and Mycroft trudged up the stairs to retrieve Greg's college bag. They returned downstairs just as the driver for that night knocked on the door. Sherlock said goodbye to John out at the car, so Mycroft and Greg exchanged a quick kiss in the doorway to the house.

"Thanks for tonight," said Greg. "It's been wonderful"

"My pleasure," answered Mycroft, stealing another kiss from him. "I'll see you tomorrow."

With that, Greg walked down the steps and slid into the waiting car.

The car dropped Greg off first, and with a quick goodbye to John, he hurried into the house. Sarah was in the living room, so he sat himself down while she asked about his day. After a quick chat, he headed upstairs to his room, and started to get ready for bed.

After changing and brushing his teeth, Greg climbed into bed. It was only just after 9pm, but he was exhausted. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but all he could do was think about was how well the day had went. His mind kept returning to that slightly awkward moment after Sherlock's introductions though, and one particular thought kept recurring.

Greg wanted Mycroft to be his boyfriend.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10 – Don't know where the hell I'm going, but I'm going after you.

Greg wanted Mycroft to be his boyfriend.

When Greg got up on Thursday morning, he cursed himself for letting this thought keep him up all night. He told himself he'd bring it up at lunch, but thought that he'd probably chicken out. Greg really liked Mycroft. He was sure there was still a lot for him to discover about the boy, - he was the most introverted person Greg had ever met, and Greg knew that he'd barely scratched the surface. But Greg was decidedly looking forward to finding out what lay beneath, and was sure that getting to know Mycroft better would only make him feel more for the gorgeous redheaded teen.

Again, much earlier than necessary, Greg made his way to college. The place was still deserted, with only a handful of cars in the carpark. He decided to wait by the gates.

He didn't have to wait long. A few minutes later the usual black car drew up to the kerb. Mycroft got out, and as he retrieved his bag, a curly black haired head popped out of the open door, with a huge grin.

"Hi Greg!" exclaimed Sherlock.

Greg chuckled as Mycroft made to shut the car door. "Have a good day at school Sherlock," he called to the young boy.

With that, the car pulled away again, taking Sherlock to school, and leaving the boys alone. Mycroft, feeling brave in the wake of the previous night, pulled Greg into a kiss. He sucked gently at Greg's lower lip, before running his tongue along it. Mycroft's bravado surprised Greg, and he parted his lips slightly, allowing Mycroft's tongue to dip in to his mouth. An old hand at this, Greg placed his hand on the back of Mycroft's neck, bracing him there whilst he nipped gently at the boy's lips. Mycroft made a slight moan, which Greg took as encouragement. This was not how he had expected his morning to play out.

After a minute or two more of alternating techniques from both teens, they broke apart. Mycroft's beautiful freckled face was flushed, and Greg was grinning a cheek-splitting grin.

"Was that ok?" Mycroft asked hesitantly.

Greg looked at the boy, raising an eyebrow. "It was way better than ok. We're definitely going to try that again later." Greg then grabbed Mycroft's hand, fitting it with his own, and dragged him off into college.

When they reached 2a1, they headed off to the corner of the room which, only 4 days in, they already thought of as theirs. Mycroft took his seat, and this time, Greg sat on Mycroft's desk, facing him. Once they'd settled, Greg asked Mycroft if he'd slept well and if he'd done anything interesting after Greg had left.

"Once you'd gone, I made hot chocolate for Sherlock and went to my room to do some homework. Went to bed just before 11. Did you sleep ok? You were exhausted when you left."

Greg hesitated. He decided to go with the truth. "Nah, couldn't settle. Had something on my mind."

Mycroft peered at Greg with concern, but wasn't sure if he should ask anymore. "Ah. Well i'm here to lend an ear if you'd like to talk about it. Or anything else."

Silence followed which felt a bit less natural and comfortable than some of the other times, while Greg pondered his options. Now was as good a time as any.

"Um, it's just that I kept thinking about how Sherlock introduced me to John."

Mycroft clammed up. So Greg didn't like being introduced like that. He didn't want to be his boyfriend.

"I'm sorry about that. My little brother is socially inept. I'll have a word with him later and put it right."

"No, that's not what I meant," said Greg. He'd seen the momentary flash of pain cross Mycroft's eyes when he'd brought up the subject. He could read the redhead's thoughts written on his face. He thought a rejection was coming. "I was thinking about how I liked it. I mean I know we haven't known each other long, so I probably shouldn't, but I did. It sounded right, d'you know what I mean?"

Mycroft was sure he was hearing things. "Ermm, are you saying that you – umm – that you want to be... erm, boyfriends?" Mycroft stuttered.

"Yeah daftarse," laughed Greg, trying to disperse some of the tension which had formed. "I mean, as long as you want to as well."

Mycroft didn't answer. He just tugged Greg forward by the arms until he was close enough for their lips to meet in a kiss which beat their earlier one without much competition.

Greg took that as approval.

Greg's first class after sign-in was Sports. It's scheduled time on Monday had been replaced by their welcome assembly, so this was the first time in the week that he had the class. He was worried to say the least. So far, he'd gotten by without much interaction with other students. He had Mycroft in English Lit, and History, was paired with Anthea in Chemistry, and of course, was becoming friendly with Dimmock and Cat, but otherwise, he hadn't spoken to anyone else. Sport was the kind of subject where engaging with the others in the class couldn't be avoided though, and a little bit of the worry he'd felt on Monday returned.

The boys in the class were typical boys though. Since the weather was still good, their first unit was athletics, so that they could make use of the outdoor track while it was still viable. After changing, the group made their way out to the stands, where their tutor, William, split them into groups for different activities. Greg was sorted into a group of 4 that was assigned the long-jump first.

"Alright mate, I'm Kevin," said one of the boys in his group.

"Greg Lestrade."

Introductions were exchanged between Greg and the other two group members too – Michael and Steven.

"So, what Comp did you go to?" asked Steven as they walked over to the opposite side of the track where the sandy long-jump box was.

"Oh, I moved here during the summer from Dorset. Did you 3 go to school together?" Greg asks, nodding at the 3 boys.

"Yeah, we all went to Newton Comprehensive. Well since you're new here, you're more than welcome to hang out with us anytime, yeah?" said Kevin, clearly the dominant one of the 3.

Greg acknowledged the offer with a quick thank you, and the boys warmed up and started their activity. By the end of the hour, Greg had recorded the longest jump and Steven had fouled on every jump.

Whilst Greg was at sports, Mycroft was suffering through an incredibly boring physics lesson. The only redeeming factor was that Anthea was in the class. She really was a joy, and an easy companionship was already forming between the two.

Once the tutor had set the work for the days class, he retreated to his desk and very much left the class to conduct themselves how they liked.

"So how are you liking Baker Street so far, Mycroft?" Anthea asked as they worked. "It must be difficult when most people already have friend groups? But then, I suppose you have Greg and he's in the same boat."

Mycroft couldn't help the way his face lit up at the mention of Greg; an action which was not lost on Anthea.

"Ah, yes it's been ok. And Cat, Dimmock and yourself have been really welcoming," replied Mycroft, deliberately not mentioning Greg.

Again, it didn't go unnoticed.

"Aww, you like Lestrade!" Anthea smirked. "That's sweet, I know he's single."

Mycroft flushed involuntarily. "Actually, um, we already decided to give it a try."

"Wow, you work fast, eh? That's great though. I can imagine the two of you together."

For some reason, Anthea's approval pleased Mycroft. The rest of the lesson passed quickly, as did the day. The new couple sat with Anthea, Cat and Dimmock at lunch, with Greg and Dimmock chatting about football again, Mycroft and Cat exchanging opinions on certain authors, and Anthea contributing to both conversations as and when she pleased. Mycroft and Greg's last class before the end of the day was history, so they left college together, pausing for a kiss before Mycroft got into the waiting car, calling back a promise that he would text Greg later.

That night Greg had a quiet dinner with his mother, and they sat together to watch Big Bang Theory. After careful consideration, he decided to tell Sarah about Mycroft. They'd always had a very open relationship, and it didn't feel right not telling her. Her reaction was simply to smile and tell him that Mycroft seemed lovely. Well, that along with the standard warning to be careful, which had so many meanings.

He had Mycroft had exchanged a few texts during the evening, - mostly inconsequential stuff like Mycroft complaining that Sherlock was a pain, or Greg bothering Mycroft for the answers to their history homework because he was too lazy to make a proper attempt. The conversation was easy, and Greg couldn't help the smile that spread across his face every time his phone vibrated with a message.

After going upstairs to do the history homework that Mycroft outrightly refused to give him the answers to, Greg found himself procrastinating by browsing through Facebook. Whilst signed on, he went through and found the profiles of Anthea, Dimmock, and Cat as well as Kevin and Michael from his sports class, which he added. Numerous searches seemed to reveal that Mycroft didn't have an account – (Steven didn't seem to either, but Greg didn't dwell on this). He checked up on what the gang had been up to back in Dorset, and wished a Happy Birthday to the 3 'friends' whose birthdays were that day. Greg sat back for a moment, just thinking, contemplating, and then made a few more clicks. The page reloaded, and right at the top of the News Feed there was now a post accompanied by his name and picture.

_Greg Lestrade updated his relationship status. _

_Greg Lestrade is now in a relationship. _


	11. Chapter 11

A/N – Some homophobia and violence in this chapter

Chapter 11 – Underneath it's all the same love.

_Greg Lestrade updated his relationship status. _

_Greg Lestrade is now in a relationship. _

Greg clicked off of Facebook and got on with the original task – the history homework. He heard his phone buzz a few times from its place on his bed, but he ignored it since Mycroft had taken Sherlock to see a film and he wasn't particularly interested in talking to anyone else at that moment.

About 40 minutes later he was done, so clicked back on to Facebook. Then he understood what the buzzing of his phone had been about. The little red sign in the top corner showed 7 notifications. Anthea, Dimmock and Kevin had accepted his friend requests, 37 people had liked his updated relationship (although most of them he never actually spoke to), and there were 3 comments on it also. And a game request for something called Odd Socks?

He clicked on the comments, bracing himself for the onslaught of jesting abuse from his friends. He really should have told them first.

_Greg Lestrade is now in a relationship._

_Zoey Crawford - ?_

_Crissy Jackson – Oh you dark horse, you ;)_

_Zoey Crawford – CALL ME RIGHT NOW GREGORY MATTHEW LESTRADE._

He chuckled a little at Crissy, but worried a little bit about Zoey. She was his best friend after all, so her reaction was understandable. Back in Dorset, Zoey would have probably known about a new relationship before even Greg himself did, and he felt guilty for not letting her know. He was also a little surprised that Gunnar hadn't contributed his 2 cents, but there was time yet.

Greg got up from his desk and reached across the bed for his phone. It would be better for him to face the wrath of a certain best friend sooner rather than later. When he unlocked the phone he saw that he also had 2 texts. One from Gunnar and one from Zoey.

_Messages _

_From: Gunnar _

_u've been holding out on us Greggy. I better hear from u soon 2 be filled in! Btw Zoey is out for blood so beware. _

_From: Zoey_

_WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL GREG?! _

He quickly tapped on Zoey's name to ring her. When the ringing stopped and he heard the click of connection, he held the phone slightly away from his ear in preparation.

_"YOU'RE A FUCKING ARSEHOLE GREG!"_

"Sorry Zo. It's only just happened."

_"I DON'T BLOODY CARE! You're meant to tell your best friend these things, preferably before you broadcast it on Facebook."_

"I really am sorry. I was just on anyway and figured I'd change it while I had the page open. I didn't mean to upset you."

_"Well you did! You've been away 3 weeks and at the college for 4 fucking days and already you're forgetting about me"_

Greg was appalled that she felt like that and hated himself for causing it.

"Aww, Zo, thats not true. You're my best friend. Have been since nursery. That hasn't changed. I miss you like fuck," Greg told her. "You're perfectly entitled to be mad that I never told you first, I was just so wrapped up in being happy that I never thought it through, but please don't ever think that I'm forgetting you or leaving you behind."

That appeased Zoey somewhat, and she calmed enough to ask who the guy was and Greg happily launched into a long winded description of the events of the last 4 days. They talked for over an hour and by the end of it were firmly back to being best friends. Greg promised to Skype her at the weekend and they rung off. After shooting a quick text back to Gunnar, telling him not to hold his breath since gentlemen didn't kiss and tell (a pointless effort, since Greg knew Zoey would fill everyone in in the morning), he changed for bed, with the restless sleep of the previous night catching up to him.

Greg slept in on Friday morning. Not too badly, but he had to skip breakfast. He bolted out the door at 8.05, texting Mycroft on the way to let him know that he'd be in later than usual. Just as he was turning onto Baker Street, his phone buzzed. He checked the time quickly as he opened the message. 8.17, he was pretty impressed with himself.

_Messages_

_From: Mycroft._

_I'm waiting by the main door._

He crossed the carpark quickly and greeted the redhead. There were plenty of students and staff milling around so they forewent the kissing and just headed off to sign in.

As they headed up the stairs Greg heard a voice from behind him call his name. He turned to see Kevin and Steven there. He paused as they caught up to him, and Mycroft waited too.

"So, I saw your Facebook last night," said Kevin. "Who's the lucky burd? Does she go here?"

Greg caught Mycroft looking at him, puzzled. "What are you talking about?" Greg asked the boy.

"The new relationship status? You've only just moved here and already you're charming the local lasses," Kevin replied.

Well, this is awkward, thought Greg. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know if Mycroft would want people to know. He didn't even know if Mycroft was out. Obviously Sherlock knew, but he highly doubted his parents or anyone did.

"Oh, it's not a girl, mate," Greg said. "I'm gay."

Kevin and Steven looked equally gobsmacked. "You're what?"

"Yeah, mate, I like guys."

Something seemed to snap in Kevin. "Mate? I'm not your mate. I don't hang around with fags! Stay away from us, got it?" And with that, he turned abruptly and dragged Steven away.

Greg took a breath before turning back to Mycroft, who was still stood one step up from him, shock written on his face.

"What was that?" the redhead asked.

"They're in my sports class. They seemed alright yesterday."

"Ok, but what was that?" Mycroft asked again.

"I changed my relationship status on Facebook last night, y'know, seeing as i'm not single anymore" Greg flashed a smile at Mycroft. "I guess he was less than impressed that it's not with a girl."

"Are you ok, Gregory?"Mycroft asked. It was the first time Mycroft had used his full name, and although Greg usually hated it, it sounded nice coming from him. It might even have been sexy if used under better circumstances.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just didn't know how much to say just then. We haven't really discussed it y'know? I didn't know if you would be ok with me saying I was with you. And it pisses me off that Kevin reacted like that. I know that not everyone in the world is going to be tolerant, but I already did the whole coming out and facing the school homophobes thing back in Dorset, I don't really want to have to do it again."

Against his better judgement, Mycroft drew his boyfriend into a quick hug before they headed off to sign in. The bell was about to ring any second.

Despite the experience that morning, the rest of the day went pretty well. Neither boy saw anymore of Kevin, but Greg knew it couldn't last. He had sports last thing.

He got changed and headed out to the track. Everyone was already out there, including the coach, so he lingered near the back of the group, trying to ignore Kevin and Michael turning round to stare at him while waiting to hear what they'd be doing that lesson. They were told to stay in the same groups as before, but luckily for Greg, his group got assigned sprinting this time around meaning minimal interaction between him and the 3 boys would be necessary. He wasn't oblivious to their smirks or glances, or the fact that they were talking about him, but the lesson passed without any conflicts.

Since it was the last lesson of the day, they didn't have to head in early to get changed, so stayed out at the track until the bell rang. Greg grabbed his bag from where he'd left it on the stand, before making his way round the side of the college building. Mycroft was coming back to his and was waiting for him at the gate, so it was quicker to go around than try to go back through the building. He was vaguely aware of the footsteps behind quickening. A leg from behind twisted around his own to trip him up. He landed on the ground, stones cutting into his legs since he was wearing shorts. He heard a voice he knew to be Steven's calling him a fairy and a poof, and heard and felt someone spitting on him. Anonymous legs kicked him as he lay curled up on the hard ground.

Soon he heard someone say that they'd better go, and he heard footsteps retreating as he sprawled on the ground.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N - I've only just noticed that the chapters here haven't kept their format with breaks in the story, so if it seems like in chapter 1-11 that sometimes the story jumps from one time to another, then its because there was a break in the original. I will go back and fix it in the earlier chapters eventually, but from now, breaks will be indicated by the horizontal rule, which should make the story flow better. Chapter 12 – A pebble in the water makes a ripple effect.

Soon he heard someone say that they'd better go, and he heard footsteps retreating as he sprawled on the ground.

He didn't know how long he lay there. After a while he heard footsteps again, and then a quiet curse. He felt the heat of a body as someone knelt near him. He kept his eyes tight shut, childishly wishing that if he didn't open his eyes, then he wouldn't have to face up to what had just occurred. Arms hooked under his underarms as someone pulled him up in to a sitting position.

"Can you tell me what happened?" Asked a kindly sounding male voice.

Greg kept quiet.

"What's your name?"

Again, Greg didn't bother to respond.

"If you can't or won't tell me your name and what happened then I'm going to have to phone for an ambulance and the police."

That changed Greg's mind a bit.

"Greg"

"Greg what?"

Greg decided it obviously wasn't going away, so wrenched open his eyes to look at his inquisitor. The face wasn't one Greg recognized but he figured that the man must be a tutor.

"Greg Lestrade."

"What happened here, Greg?"

Greg ran through the events in his head. Tears which had been threatening since Kevin and his friends abandoned him crumpled on the ground finally spilled over.

"What's your name?" Greg asked the man.

The man regarded the face of the teenager, covered in dirt and scrapes, with tears rolling down it.

"Sam, I teach Biology."

"Can you please please do something for me please Sam? Can you please go out to the front gate and see if there is a tall redheaded boy waiting there? If there is, will you bring him back here. I promise I won't run, and I'll answer all your questions, just please go and find him."

All Greg wanted in that moment was to know that Mycroft was ok. To know that the boys hadn't gone after him, because they knew that he and Greg hung out together. The pain from his cheek, where it had badly grazed the asphalt, the pain from his ribs which were already bruising from their kicks, and the pain in his hand, which he was sure he'd sprained in landing when they first tripped him, were completely eclipsed by the worry and fear he felt over Mycroft's wellbeing.

Sam looked at the boy, broken and beaten, and decided to do as he asked. Greg didn't look like a trouble maker, and the state he was in suggested that he hadn't fought back against whoever had done this. If finding this other boy meant that whoever had done this might be found and reprimanded, then he was going to do it.

* * *

Mycroft still stood by the gate. It was now 4.20. Greg was 20 minutes late and the college stood deserted.

Maybe he forgot he was meant to meet you, Mycroft thought. Or maybe he had to rush away for some emergency. Maybe a text he sent to cancel hasn't been delivered yet. Maybe...

All manner of scenarios ran through his head, but one kept coming back up. Maybe he decided he doesn't like you, and slipped away without you noticing, hoping you'll get the hint.

It was the most logical.

Mycroft knew it had been too good to be true. He took out his phone to call for someone to pick him up, and started to walk, deciding that he'd meet the car somewhere along the way, letting him clear his head.

"Stop," shouted someone from the school grounds.

Mycroft turned. There was a young man rushing towards him. He looked to be mid-twenties, probably a newly qualified tutor.

"You need to come with me," the mad demanded.

Mycroft didn't understand. What could he have done wrong? Was he in trouble? "Why?" He asked the man, but the man was already heading back in the school gates towards the left side of the building, beckoning for Mycroft to follow.

Mycroft did follow, but remained completely apprehensive over what was happening. None of the scenarios compared with what met his eyes though.

Someway along the left side of the college building, sat Greg, braced up against the wall. He was wearing shorts, showing legs covered in dirt and scrapes, stones stuck in to them. He held a wrist against his chest as if it were hurt. On one side of his was the remnants of what looked like spit, and on the other his cheek had suffered a rather bad graze, which weeped a little and looked dirty. Tears rolled down his face from eyes which were full of fear.

Mycroft gasped. His heart sped. He rushed over to his Greg and knelt beside him, fussing, asking over and over again what had happened and if Greg was ok.

The tutor cleared his throat behind the 2 boys.

"I did as I was asked. Now let's get you inside so we can talk."

Greg nodded at the man and tried to stand up. He couldn't push himself up from his sitting position though, because of his wrist, so once again, arms - (Mycroft's this time) - braced him from under the armpits, and slowly lifted him to a standing position. He winced as he stood, from the pains in his side, and his legs felt shaky, but with help from Mycroft and Sam, he slowly managed to make his way around to the front of the building and in the main door. Sam directed them into the first room off of the main hall, trying to prevent Greg from having to move any farther than necessary.

Once Greg was seated again in a chair, Sam decided it was time for some answers.

"What happened, Greg?"

"Well, I had sports last thing, and was coming out to meet Mycroft," he answered, gesturing at Mycroft. "I decided to go round the side rather than go through the building and try and manoeuvre the crowds. I heard footsteps behind me, and then someone tripped me up. I landed on the ground. Whoever it was started to call me names. Someone spat on me and I started to get kicked. Then they left and you found me."

"Did you see who they were?" asked Sam.

"No, I don't know," Greg answered. Mycroft looked at him, knowing himself who they'd been, and didn't understand why Greg was protecting them, but Greg flashed him a warning look.

"What names were they calling you, Greg?"

"Fairy, poof, fag."

"I'm going to have to file a report with the college headmaster. A homophobic attack cannot be tolerated. Have you had any other bother of this sort, this week, or in your old school?"

"No, sir. I never went to school here, and have never had trouble like this. Sure, I got the usual name calling when I first came out, but nothing more severe."

Sam looked once again at the tear stained face of the youth. He knew the pain the boy was going through. He himself was out and proud now, but it hadn't always been that way. In high school he'd been abused so badly over his sexuality that he'd tried to take his own life. Sam wanted nothing more than to give the boy sat in front of him a hug, but knew that he couldn't. It was unprofessional, and wouldn't help anyway. Nothing would.

"I'm going to go to the office and get contact details for your parent or guardian. I think you need to go be looked over," said Sam, and he left the room.

Greg wanted to argue. He didn't want his mum to be called in over this. He didn't want Sarah feeling guilty that they'd moved and this had happened. She'd blame herself and Greg didn't want that, but there wasn't another option.

Mycroft was watching Greg intently. "It was Ke..." Mycroft started to say.

"Don't say a word Myc, we'll talk about it later, ok?" Greg interupted.

With that, Sam came back, saying that his mother was on her way and that he would file the paperwork on what had happened on Monday

* * *

When Sarah arrived, Greg was saved from having to retell the half truths of his story, because Sam filled her in for him. She cried when she saw the state of her son and Greg's heart broke watching her. She insisted that they visit the local A+E, despite Greg's protests that he was fine. Mycroft tried to leave, giving the family space, but Greg insisted that he stay with him.

Sarah is glad of the company and comfort while they wait on Greg coming back out at A+E. 2 and a half hours later, he's had his cuts and grazes cleaned, his wrist and ribs x-rayed to reveal a sprain and some severe bruising, and with a support to splint his wrist and painkillers, he's told he can go home.

They get Chinese takeaway after the hospital, and after the 3 have eaten, Sarah insists that Greg go to bed. With a kiss goodnight, Mycroft leaves his beaten boyfriend, and goes home, worrying ceaselessly the whole night through.

* * *

The weekend passed quickly for the 2 boys. Greg stayed in bed for most of it, trying to get over the pain from his bruised ribs. Mycroft visited on Saturday, and they watched a movie, neither mentioning the events of the day before. On Saturday night, Greg Skyped with Zoey, during which he downplayed his injuries. On Sunday, Mycroft couldn't get away from the manor because Miss Hainey had a day off, so he spent the day running after Sherlock and trying to do homework, but his mind always wandered back to Greg.

By Monday, the pain from Greg's ribs was manageable. Sarah tried to convince him to stay off, but Greg told himself that the sooner he faced up to things, the better, and lucky for him, his injuries meant that he could skip sports that afternoon.

When Greg arrived at the gate, Mycroft was waiting. They headed in to college. His cheek was still recovering from the graze and his wrist still splinted, which drew some attention, but he ignored the looks and whispers he got as they went to sign in.

Just after Casey had called the attendance, one of the school secretaries came in and asked for Greg. He was taken to the headmaster, - a gentle looking older man, and the only staff member who they had to call sir. He re-told the half truth story and was assured that everything would be done to find out who had done this and was even offered an appointment with the school counsellor. By the time they were done, the first class had already started, so the headmaster gave him a late pass and asked him to send Mycroft to see him.

Greg went into English Lit where he felt everyone's eyes bore into him as he gave Marcus, the tutor, his late pass, and explained that the headmaster wanted to see Mycroft.

* * *

Mycroft made his way up to the headmaster's office. When he knocked, he was promptly invited in and asked to take a seat.

"Well, Mr. Holmes, i've heard a lot about you, given your accelerated progression into 6th form, and I wish we weren't meeting for the first time under these circumstances," said the older man, in place of a greeting.

"Yes, sir," was all Mycroft managed.

"On the report from the incident on Friday with Gregory Lestrade, the tutor – Sam -, states that Gregory asked for you afterwards, is that correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"I know you therefore didn't witness the event, but it's incredibly important that you tell me anything that you think might be important. Even if it seems minor, it could all be used to find out who did this to your friend. We don't take any bullying kindly at Baker Street, and much less do we accept discrimination of any kind, so it would be really helpful if you can share anything you might know."

"I really don't anything about it sir."

The headmaster caught Mycroft's eyes briefly. "I know you and Mr. Lestrade didn't attend the same high school, and haven't known each other long, but it is my understanding from my discussion with Gregory that you have become friends and have kept each other's company. Can you think of any time during this week when anyone has approached either you or Gregory, or called you names?"

Mycroft felt the headmaster's gaze on him. He couldn't do it. Greg and he hadn't discussed why he didn't tell anyone who had beaten him up, and Mycroft decided that he couldn't stand by and let the boys get away with it.

The headmaster listened as Mycroft described what had happened on Friday morning. Afterwards, he thanked him and told him that he'd done the right thing and sent him back off to English. Mycroft didn't want to go.

Less than a week after becoming involved, Mycroft had already gone against Greg's wishes, and despite believing it was for the best, he couldn't shake the guilt.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13 – Now the whole world can hear our silence.

Less than a week after becoming involved, Mycroft had already gone against Greg's wishes, and despite believing it was for the best, he couldn't shake the guilt.

Whispers and looks followed Greg around school all of that morning, everyone contemplating how he had gotten hurt and why the headmaster had spoken with him. He and Mycroft hadn't bothered going to the form during their break, since Greg didn't even really feel up to seeing Anthea, Cat and Dimmock. Plus he wanted to use the extra time to steel himself up. He had sports next.

When the bell rang, Mycroft gave Greg's hand a quick squeeze, making Greg feel better instantly with just this tiny gesture as they separated. When Greg got out to the track, the other boys were still changing. He had just sat down in the stands when the coach appeared. From out of the main building, Greg could see the headmaster approaching. Other boys drifted out from the changing rooms. Everyone silenced, trying to hear what the headmaster and coach were talking about, and a few glances drifted towards Greg.

"I'm just here to tell you that Kevin Adams, Steven Kerr, and Michael Fisher have been suspended, and have been un-enrolled from this course, effective immediately," said the headmaster.

Greg filled with dread. This was no coincidence; it had to be about him. But how had the headmaster known?

Mycroft.

Greg hadn't asked what Mycroft had said when he was called to the office. He'd just assumed that he wouldn't have said anything. Apparently he was wrong.

Whispers were now spreading amonst the boys. "Can I ask why, sir?" asked the coach.

"The matter is confidential," stated the headmaster in a voice which invited no further questions. Then he turned towards the stands. "Lestrade, may I have another quick word with you?"

Again, the boys were immediately firing out suggestions as to how Greg and the other 3 boys' suspensions were linked. Greg just ignored them as he picked up his bag and followed the headmaster.

Once back in privacy of the headmaster's office, he began. "As you heard, the 3 boys responsible for the incident on Friday have been suspended. They've also been removed from the sports class, which I believe is the only class that you share with any of them. I understand your apprehension, Mr Lestrade, but it is clear that you knew who attacked you, and you should have told me. It would not have been fair for them to have gotten away with such callous and discriminate behaviour. I hope you're aware that if anything like this were to occur again, there are people you can, and should, approach?"

Greg simply agreed, trying to appease the headmaster and was quickly dismissed.

* * *

The rest of the day went dreadfully. One or all of the boys had text their friends telling them what had happened, and now the whispers weren't whispers anymore. Greg heard people in the corridors talk about what had happened as he passed. Some were talking in tones of pity and sympathy, and others in tones of hatred. At numerous points, he heard himself being called the same names that the boys had used – fairy, fag, poof – but amongst those names there was also now 'grass'.

When lunch came around, he didn't bother with the cafeteria. He went outside, rounded the side of the building, and sat down in the spot against the wall that Sam had rested him against 3 days previous. He drew up his knees and let his head fall forward and let the tears he'd been restraining all day flow.

He felt his phone buzz repeatedly in his coat pocket but didn't want to look at it. He knew it would be Mycroft, and he _really_ did not feel ready to talk to him yet. Greg knew in himself that Mycroft had probably thought he was doing the right thing, but he'd only made things worse. Sure, now the boys had been suspended, and he wouldn't have any classes with them, but they were going to think Greg had implicated them, and would definitely make his life a living hell at every opportunity. And, yes, they might have done that anyway, even if they hadn't been reprimanded by the school, but there was also a chance that they would have just left him alone.

A week ago, his new start at Baker Street was looking promising. Now, everything had turned to shit.

* * *

Greg stayed there sat against that wall. Even when the bell rang and he knew that he should be going to sociology, he didn't move. Mycroft would be in sociology. He just sat there, sobbing, against that wall.

Sometime after that, he heard someone whistling, heading his way from the back of the building. He knew he'd be in trouble for skipping class, but couldn't bring himself to care, burying his head in his hands.

The whistling stopped, as did the accompanying footsteps. "Not again, surely." Greg recognized the voice, - Sam.

Greg raised his head to the tutor and gave him a wry smile. He noticed a lit cigarette in his hand and realised why he was here and why he'd probably been here at the end of the day on Friday. Unsurprisingly, the thought hadn't occurred to him at the time.

Sam dropped the cigarette even though he'd barely started it, and ground it into the asphalt. With that, he crossed to the wall, and dropped himself down beside Greg.

"You okay?" Sam asked, concern in his voice.

Greg just nodded whilst still sobbing.

"Okay, that was admittedly a stupid question, because you're clearly not ok. D'you want to talk about it?"

Greg shrugged in response this time, wincing as the movement hurt his bruised ribs. "There's not much to say. I was actually enjoying the anonymity here, being a new kid, but suddenly I'm the subject of the whole form's gossip. I was happy just to forget that it even happened, ignore it, but thanks to the one person I trusted, now everyone knows what happened."

Sam couldn't bear to see the distress in the boy's eyes. "It will blow over. Trust me. Yours is the first drama of the new school year, granted, but it won't be last," he assured him. "I take it the trusted person was the redhead? Mycroft, was that his name?"

Greg nodded again. "I shouldn't have asked you to go get him. None of this would have happened if i'd just left him be."

"What'd he do, if you don't mind me asking?"

Greg suddenly felt unsure. Sam had been trying to help and now Greg was going to have to tell him that he'd lied to him. He tried to think of something to say, but the truth flooded out like a tidal wave.

"Well, I knew who did it. Right from the beginning. And I'm sorry I never told you, but I just wanted to leave it. Getting people in bother only brings more trouble down on your head," Greg said before pausing for breath. "But the boys, - well 1 in particular, - had approached me earlier on Friday morning. It's a long story, but basically it ended with me telling him that I was gay, and him calling me a fag and telling me to stay away from him. Mycroft was there when all this happened, so when he saw me in that state, he obviously knew straight away who it had been. So when the headmaster called him in today, since you put his name on the report, he must have told him the boys' names. Next thing I know they've been suspended and the whole college is discussing my sexuality and the fact that I got beaten up."

"Whoever they are, they deserve to be punished for what they did Greg. Nobody should be treated like that. For any reason, be it race, religion, sexuality, what team they support or anything else. And a close eye will be kept on them from now on, to prevent this happening again. You don't have to worry."

The strength of Sam's conviction as he spoke made it clear to Greg that he had personal experiences in the area, and hearing it from someone who'd been through it helped.

"Honestly, Greg, if anything, and I mean anything, gets said to you, you can come and speak to me. Just because it's not physical doesn't mean you should just shrug it off. That's the thing; people think that verbal abuse is ok, because it can be easily hidden. The people who do it think that just because it doesn't leave a mark, its justifiable. But sometimes what causes the most damage isn't the physical pain. So please, don't just ignore it if anything like this happens."

By this point Sam was almost pleading with the teen. He took a breath to calm himself and reel all his emotions back in. He lit another cigarette and when it was done, he rose from beside the boy.

"C'mon. I'll get your absence for this class and next class authorised at the office, and you can head home early."

Greg felt so grateful to the young teacher. Not just for clearing it for him to leave early, but for everything he'd said. It felt good to have an ally, someone who knew what he was talking about rather than just muttering comforting words. He didn't know how to say this though, so he just said thanks, grabbed his bag and headed for the gate.

* * *

Mycroft hadn't seen Greg since he left to go to sports after morning break, and all his texts had gone un-answered. Everyone was talking about how 3 boys had been suspended for attacking the new boy on Friday. Greg obviously knew now that Mycroft had told the headmaster who were responsible for hurting Greg, so when Greg didn't turn up at lunch, although hurt, Mycroft had been expecting it. He'd gone against what Greg wanted and caused the whole school to be gossiping about him, so he had a right to be mad. He'd sent off a text telling Greg how sorry he was, and then another, and then had decided to give the boy space since he would see him in sociology after lunch anyway.

But Greg never came to sociology. Mycroft had sent another 3 texts during the class with no reply and now he was worried. They had independant study last thing, but guessing that Greg wouldn't be there, Mycroft decided to leave early.

The bell rang and he hurried from class. He was upset and angry with himself, worried about Greg, and just wanted home as soon as possible.

As Mycroft hurried past the college offices, Sam came out from signing off on Greg's unauthorised absence. At the sight of the worry plaguing the redhead's face, Sam called to him. He'd be late to lead his upper-sixth bio lecture, but it didn't matter.

Mycroft turned at the sound of his name being called, and spotted Sam. He wandered over.

"You look like hell, if you don't mind me saying," said the tutor. "Don't worry yourself into an early grave though. I had a class off just then and sneaked out for a cig round the side. Greg was there, hiding I guess. Bit upset he was, and angry at you. I told him I'd get his absences authorised and sent him home, so you don't have to worry about not seeing him."

Mycroft felt unbelievably relieved. "Thanks for letting me know. At least I know he's ok, even if he isn't talking to me."

"You did the right thing, Mycroft," assured Sam. "Right now Greg's just worried that the boy's suspension means that they'll try something again. It won't happen though. They've been pulled from the class they had with Greg, and will be monitored at other times. He'll calm down and it'll blow over. He won't stay mad forever."

Mycroft felt a bit better hearing that. He thanked Sam again, and left.

* * *

When Greg got home, his mum was still at school. Having missed lunch, he made himself a sandwich. Peeling off the jeans he'd worn that day, he changed into shorts which showed off the healing cuts and bruises on his legs, and crawled into his bed.

Greg pulled the laptop from where he'd left it at the side of his bed. He went on Facebook and removed Michael and Kevin as friends. He read a message from Anthea sent at some point through the day saying that she'd heard what the others were saying, and, although not inclined to listen to gossip, hoped that he was ok. He thought of the girl, who'd only known him a week, but was loyal enough to not listen to the playground chatter.

That just brought him back to thinking of Mycroft. At first he was truly mad at the boy for going behind his back and doing something that he knew Greg wouldn't like. Then he'd just been scared about the repercussions of what the redhead had done. Now though, he knew Mycroft was just trying to look out for him. And Sam was right; Kevin, Steven and Michael deserved to be punished. Hopefully nothing more would come of it when the boys' suspensions ended.

Greg decided to distract himself from his thoughts with some TV. He watched an episode of Family Guy, followed by an episode of Brooklyn 99 on Netflix. The only new episode of his TV shows that he hadn't watched already was Game of Thrones, because he'd wanted to invite Mycroft round to watch too, like the week before. He decided that's what he would do.

Greg couldn't be mad at Mycroft any longer. He wanted to be, but he couldn't.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14 – Something's gotta give.

Greg couldn't be mad at Mycroft any longer. He wanted to be, but he couldn't.

Greg lay on his bed as he thought about the past week. In some ways it seemed so much longer. Greg didn't understand. He'd never been someone who shied away from his feelings, but he just couldn't believe the ones that Mycroft inspired in him. Mycroft, who a few hours ago had made a grievous breach of his trust. Yet Greg found himself ready to forgive already. He couldn't bear to be mad at the boy. Greg had definitely fallen hard and fallen fast.

Greg reached for his phone, and finally opened the texts from that afternoon. He disregarded them completely though. Greg didn't need Mycroft to apologise.

_Messages_

_To: Mycroft. _

_I shouldn't have disappeared. Come round. _

* * *

The complete relief that Mycroft felt when his phone sounded a text alert was overwhelming. He'd made his way home from college, and remembering what Sam had said, decided to give Greg some space, hoping against hope that he'd start talking to him again when he was ready.

The text he received had Mycroft thoroughly confused though. He couldn't understand why it almost seemed like Greg was apologising to him. Mycroft had wronged Greg, not the other way around.

Regardless, Mycroft almost jumped up from his desk at which he was attempting (and failing) to do his homework. He checked that Miss Hainey was ok to keep an eye on Sherlock for the night, called a driver, and was out the door in a flash.

* * *

When Mycroft reached Greg's, Sarah was just pulling into the driveway. She smiled when she saw Mycroft getting out of the black car that had stopped in front of the house. She'd had a call over an hour and a half ago now from the tutor who'd found Greg on Friday. He told her that Greg had been sent home early and had filled her in on everything that had happened that day. She'd left work as soon as she could after school finished, not wanting Greg to be alone if he was upset, although she doubted he would talk to her.

They'd always had an open relationship, and Greg was more than aware that he could approach her with any problem, big or small. But despite all his insistence to the contrary, the move had thrown things off balance. Sarah knew that Greg supported the move and wanted her to be happy, but that didn't mean that it had all been easy. Yes, back home, when Greg had a problem, 9/10 times he would come to Sarah. She didn't kid herself that she was his first stop though; he almost always sought the support and opinions of his friends first. Here he didn't have that luxury, and it would have been such a shame if his anger at Mycroft had ruined their blossoming relationship.

"Hi Mrs Lestrade," Mycroft said as he walked up the path to meet her.

"Hello Mycroft, how are you doing?"

"I'm ok. Greg asked me to come round, I hope that's ok. He had a rough day at college," Mycroft told her, not ready to launch in to the details just yet.

"Yeah, the tutor from Friday night – um, Sam, right? – he called to let me know Greg was going home early and filled me in. I know Greg was mad at you, but I'm glad you told the truth Mycroft," answered Sarah with a friendly smile.

Sarah let herself and Mycroft in the front door.

"Greg!" she called out. "Come downstairs sweetie, Mycroft's here."

With that she fetched a soda each for the boys and started to make herself a cuppa. Two minutes later, Greg trudged down the stairs. He went into the kitchen area and gave his mum a hug, taking the two sodas from the counter, before going through to the living room where Mycroft waited.

"I'm sorry," they said simultaneously.

Sarah laughed at them from the kitchen. They just looked at each other sheepishly. Then despite the pain, Greg threw his arms around his boyfriend and kissed him hard. It was slightly inappropriate with his mother in the next room, but right then, he didn't care. They did break apart when Sarah came through with her coffee though, and sat with her a while as they talked through the day, each telling their own little bit of the story when necessary. Then Sarah shooed them away upstairs while she started dinner.

* * *

Upstairs, the boys didn't bother with Game of Thrones, or any TV. They just each lay together on the bed, talking. Occasionally kissing. Mycroft was keeping a distance for fear of hurting Greg's bruised ribs, but even so, the kissing was getting Greg a bit hot under the collar. He felt his shorts getting a bit tight. Without any thought, he'd climbed on top of Mycroft and was straddling him.

Underneath Greg, Mycroft stiffened. He felt Greg's hardness bumping against him as Greg had climbed on top. This was something that he wasn't ready for. In the aftermath of Friday, he'd realised that Greg meant a lot to him, and he was falling in love with him dizzyingly quickly. But Mycroft was who he was, and his logical mind told him that he didn't really know Greg yet. He knew that naivety and teenage hormones were a heady combination in circumstances like this, and whilst it would be easy to get caught up in that, Mycroft wanted to be sure of what he wanted. And in that moment, it was these thoughts that battled with Mycroft's low self-esteem and desire to keep Greg interested in him.

Greg meanwhile was already under the influence of the aforementioned combination. He laid a trail of kisses down Mycroft's jaw before moving the base of his throat, accessible through the uncharacteristically loosened collar, nipping and sucking, marking his boyfriend. Moving back up to Mycroft's mouth again, he caught a quick look at Mycroft's expression. Instead of mirroring the lustful flushed look that Greg was sure adorned his own face, it bore a look of terror.

Greg's heart dropped into his stomach. He very quickly rolled off of Mycroft, completely disregarding the pain shooting through his side as he did so, and pulled the redhead as close as he could.

"I'm sorry," said Mycroft quietly.

Greg was completely taken aback. "What? Why on earth are you apologising?" he almost shouted, reminding himself that he wasn't angry at Mycroft, but at his own actions. "I'm the one who's sorry."

"You obviously saw that I didn't want to do anything. So, yes, I'm sorry."

"You shouldn't apologise for that Myc. I should have known better than to just throw myself on top of you," said Greg softly, well and truly ashamed of himself. He knew that all of this was knew to Mycroft and that he was wary of letting people get close, so things should be going at Mycroft's pace, not his own.

"I should want to though. Anyone else would want to," answered Mycroft as tears formed in his eyes. "It's not even that I don't want to, because I do, I feel all the urges just the same as everyone else. I'm just not sure I'm ready to do anything about them yet."

Mycroft couldn't even meet Greg's eyes when he spoke, and it was like a shot through the heart for Greg. "Mycroft, look at me," Greg said as he took the boys chin and turned it to face him. "I wasn't thinking properly there. I don't want to give you excuses, but I've had a really hard few days and just got caught up. There is no reason that you should feel ashamed or guilty."

Mycroft tore his eyes away from Greg's gaze once more. "I don't want you to get fed up with not being able to do anything. I don't want you to find someone else or leave me."

That was the kicker. That was when the realisation hit Greg.

"Mycroft," he almost growled. "If I hadn't moved back up and caught that look on your face, would you even have told me that you were uncomfortable, or asked me to stop?"

The redhead's silence was enough of an answer. Greg pushed himself up into a sitting position and wrenched Mycroft up too. He took the younger teen's hands and looked him straight in the eyes.

"You are only 15 Mycroft. It is not weird or abnormal that you don't feel ready. Yes, lots of boys at 15 have had sex or some form of it, but you are in no way the exception to the rule. In fact, I'm pretty sure there's some sort of law against doing it at your age," he said, making an attempt to lighten mood. "That's not even to mention that even though I'm sure it's still as big an issue for straight couples, but sex, actual penetrative sex, isn't something that gay couples can just jump into."

"I know you're not experienced, but just because I am doesn't mean that you need to push yourself to be ready for me. I really like you, really really like you, and this, between us, will progress at your pace. We'll discover each new thing together as and when _you_ want to. And, in the future, I will definitely keep a better a check on myself, but you also need to be willing to tell me to stop if need be. I'm not going to be mad at you if you do, and I'm definitely not going to leave. God, I thought you were meant to be a genius."

Mycroft gave a small chuckle. He was so grateful that he had Greg. He knew in himself that whether it was too soon or not, he loved the boy who was currently holding him and wiping away his tears. And when the time came, he would be glad to share all the new experiences with Greg.

After that, the night passed happily. They had dinner with Sarah, cuddled and chatted and watched TV. When it came time for Greg's night-time painkiller, Mycroft took his leave.

As both boys drifted off that night, they revelled in the calm contentedness after days of turmoil.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15 – Take it in, but don't look down.

As both boys drifted off that night, they revelled in the calm contentedness after days of turmoil.

And for precisely that reason, Greg knew that college would be bearable that day. He would get by despite the taunts and whispers and speculations, because yes, he was gay, and yes, he'd been beaten up for it, but if he wasn't gay, he wouldn't have Mycroft, and that made it worth it.

Mycroft, being so proud to see his boyfriend hold his head up high and not care what the others were saying, had also decided to face up to some things. His father was coming home from a foreign conference that evening, which meant his mother would come home for a change too. They would only be here 2 or 3 days before his father flew off again to deal with some other crisis and Mummy would go back to the apartment in the city, so he was going to take the plunge. Greg was being so very brave, and he wanted to be brave too, and he wanted to be able to be together with Greg properly, so that meant he was going to have to come out.

He hoped his parents would react well, - he didn't think Mummy would have a problem, but he was really apprehensive about telling his father. He didn't let the worries about it plague his day though, and pushed it to the back of his mind.

The day was as fun as a day at college was ever going to be. They hung out with Anthea, Cat and Dimmock during morning break and lunch where they chatted and laughed and ignored everyone's stares and comments. The little group of 5 were really bonding and getting to know it each other well, which was both pleasing for Mycroft, who enjoyed the feeling of actually having friends, and for Greg, who enjoyed seeing that Mycroft had friends. As it was Tuesday, they both had independent study last, and together with Cat, they spent the hour in the form room doing various bits and pieces of homework.

Towards the end of the hour, Greg asked Mycroft if he wanted to come round that night. Mycroft hadn't told Greg about his plan, and didn't want Greg to know that his parents were home. He felt bad about making other excuses to avoid going round, but he was hoping that all going well, he would be able to invite Greg round for dinner either the following day or the day after and let them meet. After all, Sarah had been so welcoming, it only felt fair to have Greg meet the Holmes parents.

When the bell rang that day, they parted ways at the gates as per usual, and Mycroft let the apprehension that he'd been fighting all day take him over.

* * *

As the 4 Holmes' sat around the dinner table that evening, listening to Bartholomew Holmes talk about some 'idiotic' policy decision made in the Central African Republic, Mycroft was steeling himself for what was to come and Sherlock, having sensed there was something going on with his brother, kept throwing glances at him across the table.

When his father finally stopped droning on, Mycroft cleared his throat.

"Mummy, Father, I was hoping to speak to you about something this evening if possible," he said with more confidence in his voice than he was actually feeling.

"Of course, Mycroft, you may talk to us about anything you wish," answered his mother, Isabella.

Silence fell upon the room whilst Mycroft gathered up some courage.

"Come on, son, say whatever it is you have to say. As much as I'm enjoying time with you all, I still have work to do," interjected Bart.

"Well, um... I don't really know what to say," stuttered Mycroft nervously. "I mean, umm..."

Sherlock, having grown bored, decided to put his brother out of his misery.

"Mummy, Father, Mycroft's gay. He's wanted to tell you for a while, but feels he has to now since he met a boy at college."

Stunned silence fell over the table. Mycroft looked at the reactions of his parents, his father's eyes wide, and his mother's mouth gaping.

"Is that really what you wanted to tell us?" asked his father when he'd regained the ability to speak.

Mycroft merely nodded, eyes lowered to the table, completely uncertain of which way this was going to go.

"For goodness sake, Mycroft, what was all the stuttering about?" asked Isabella. "I know we're not around much, but you understand that that is business, don't you? We love you, both of you boys, and always will do."

His mother smiled at him and Sherlock looked smug.

"Your mother is right son. Although if it's true that you've met a boy, you do understand that we're going to want to meet him. Preferably on this trip, because I don't know when I will next get home," added his father.

"Oh yes, we should have his parent's over for dinner. That would be splendid," Isabella said.

Suddenly the room was filled with chatter about dinner, and parents, and introductions, and Mycroft sank into his seat at the table in sweet relief.

* * *

Later that night, Mycroft called Greg whilst doing his homework.

_"Hey, Myc. Everything Ok?"_ asked Greg upon answering.

"Yes, everything's fine. I have some news though."

_"Oh , yeah?"_

"Umm, yes. My parents came home tonight, and I decided to tell them I was gay."

_"Oh"_ said Greg, sounding a mixture of stunned and worried. "_Did it go ok?"_ There was a tinge of apprehension in his tone.

"Well, I couldn't actually tell them," stated Mycroft, "So Sherlock did."

_"He did what?"_

"I was a mess Greg, couldn't form a coherent sentence. So he just told them for me. They were, um, surprisingly accepting."

_"That's great Mycroft. I'm glad. I know how scary it can be."_

"Yes, well, Sherlock also told them I'd met a boy at college. So now they'd like to meet you. And your mum."

_"Woah, seriously?"_ asked Greg.

"They're only in town for 2 more nights though, so if you don't want to, I can come up with an excuse that covers you."

Greg paused. "_Do you want me to?"_

"Well of course," answered Mycroft. "I've already met your mum."

_"I guess."_ Said Greg. _"I just didn't expect them to care. They spend so much time away from you and Sherlock."_

Mycroft was surprised. He understood that Greg was very close with his mum and had a very different upbringing, but just because his parents were absent a lot, it didn't mean that they didn't care.

"That's just how it's always been in my family, Greg. My parent's work hard and yes, they are absent a lot, but they make sure that me and Sherlock are cared for, they're not neglectful, and I know that they love us both. Although yes, it means I get lumped with Sherlock sometimes, which can be a pain, but I don't really mind."

_"I didn't mean to sound judgemental, Myc. I guess it's just different circumstances. I'll ask Mum when I'm get off the phone, and let you know yeah?"_

They chatted for a while afterwards about homework and other stuff, before ringing off, and later that night Greg had text Mycroft to let him know that his mum was fine with having dinner at the manor the next night.

Tomorrow, Greg would meet Mycroft's parents. An interesting night was surely awaiting them.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16 – I have a life that's good.

Tomorrow, Greg would meet Mycroft's parents. An interesting night was surely awaiting them.

But as Greg trudged to college the next morning, the impending dinner wasn't what was most on his mind. Wednesday had rolled around again, and that meant extracurriculars this afternoon. Greg really wanted to try out for the football team; he was already missing kickabouts in the park with his friends back in Dorset. A niggling worry told him though, that it might not be the best idea, given the state of affairs at college at the time.

Mycroft knew Greg was unsure about what to do. Even being new to relationships though, Mycroft also knew that it was important for couples to have something outside of just each other. Mycroft would all too readily lose himself in his boyfriend, but it wasn't healthy. The only other friends they had at college, - Anthea's trio as they had affectionately become known to the boys – were shared friends, and so Mycroft knew it was important that Greg pursued his love of football and tried out for the team, so that he had something that was purely his, just like Mycroft's music.

That wasn't to say that Mycroft didn't understand why Greg was worried though. It was unlikely that the other boys that were trying out would be kind to Greg given the rumours. That just made it all the more important that Greg should do it; take a stand.

As it turned out though, Dimmock was also trying out, so at least Greg would have some friendly support. Greg was glad to have met Dimmock. It was a bit of an odd situation really; whilst Dimmock came from one of the catchment comprehensive, he didn't have many friends. He'd told Greg that his best friend Kyle had chosen not to continue school after his GCSEs and was doing an apprenticeship, and that meant that although he knew many of his peers at college, he'd stuck to just hanging out with Anthea and Cat, - and now Greg and Mycroft. They made a good pair, Greg and Dimmock.

* * *

After lunch that day, Mycroft and Anthea headed off to the music rooms, Cat to the auditorium for show auditions, and Dimmock and Greg to the changing rooms.

In the changing rooms, hilarity turned to hush when Greg walked in. Dimmock nodded to a few boys who were obviously from his old school, as they made their way over to a corner. This was another good thing about Dimmock; he was more than aware of what Greg's sexuality, and his status as persona non grata, but didn't care. He was aware that his friendship with Greg would impact some on him, - there'd be taunts and catcalls – but stuck by him despite not even having known him very long.

While all the rest of the boys avoided Greg like he was carrying something contagious, the two just chatted as they pulled on their shorts and football boots. Outside on the field, the coach arranged the boys into groups to do different drills. One particularly smarmy boy made a comment about not wanting a fairy in his group when Greg was assigned there, but Greg just rose above it. Slight digs and whispers continued as the session got started but again, Greg just concentrated on the task at hand.

And he was glad that he did so. After drills, groups were rearranged into teams of 5 and split between the pitches to play 5 a side. Greg came into his own. The coach was impressed, complementing his form, and commiserating when a promising shot on goal was miraculously saved. A boy from the opposition attempted an unnecessarily vicious tackle on Greg, which did take him down, but he recovered the ball quickly. All in all, he was the best player on both pitches, and after the game, his skills had apparently caused some of the boys to renege his status of pariah in favour of respect.

Some even gave him a pat on the shoulder as they headed back to the changing rooms.

* * *

Given that Greg had just spent 2 hours running around a muddy football pitch, he was glad that he and Mycroft had agreed that it was better for him just to arrive at Holmes manor later with his mum, rather than go straight after school with Mycroft. It allowed him the opportunity to shower and get a pep talk from Zoey before he had to leave.

At 6.45, Greg and Sarah left home, Greg in his best jeans and Converse and a grey button up, and his mum in a usual teachery tailored dress. Rather than his usual arguments over the music choice, the drive to Holmes manor passed in silence, with Greg chewing at his fingernails nervously.

Sarah and Greg rang the doorbell at exactly 6.59, and were greeted by Miss Hainey who took their coats to hang them up and showed them into the sitting room. As soon as they entered the room, Mycroft shot up from the chair he'd been in, and Greg could see that he was nervous too; the signs were obvious that he'd been playing with his cuffs again. Mrs Holmes also rose, a lot more elegantly than Mycroft, and seemed to sail across the floor to greet the two guests.

"Welcome to Holmes Manor!" the woman said cheerfully, greeting them both with _bisous. _"You must be Mrs Lestrade, and this must be Gregory. It's a pleasure to meet you both, I'm Isabella."

"Please, call me Sarah," insisted Greg's mother, "although Mycroft never seems to manage it."

"Thank you for having us, Mrs Holmes," adds Greg.

"Nonsense. I don't get to enjoy much time with my sons, but when Sherlock told us that Mycroft had someone important in his life, I was eager to meet you," said Isabella with a smile.

With that Mycroft came over and greeted Sarah with a kiss on the cheek.

"Lovely to see you, Mrs Lestrade."

"Would either of you care for a drink. Unfortunately my husband, Bart, has been held up by a conference call, but he should be free by the time dinner is ready."

Isabella left to fetch a soda for Greg, and a tonic water for Sarah, since she was driving, and when she came back a minute later, Sherlock was at her heels.

"Gregggggg!" he squealed. "Guess what? I got every single algebra question right. The teacher thinks that if I have that ability in every unit, I could probably sit my GCSE maths this year. 3 years early!"

Greg couldn't help but smile at the little genius, and he saw Mycroft watching fondly as he interacted with the younger Holmes. "Well done, little guy."

This time, Sherlock didn't even scowl at the nickname. "Thank you. It's all down to you."

"Oh yes, Sherlock's been singing your praises Gregory," Isabella said. "Thank you for helping out."

Sherlock and Mycroft went off to play chess whilst Greg watched and the mother's conversed. It wasn't as bad as Greg thought it would have been. He realised he'd misjudged the Holmes parents. For the second time that very day, he felt accepted by people who he hadn't expected to like him.

A little while later, Mycroft's father, Bart joined the group in the sitting room. Greg and Sarah's welcome from him was just as warm as it had been from Isabella. They moved to the dining room and ate a wonderful meal, whilst the conversation between the 6 of them flowed easily. After the meal, the boys left the parents to chat and went upstairs, where Greg and Mycroft checked over Sherlock's homework before escaping to Mycroft's room for a quick cuddle and a snog.

When it was time to go, Greg felt quite sad actually. He exchanged a handshake with Mr Holmes and a kiss on the cheek with Mrs Holmes, and was ensured that they both looked forward to seeing him the next time they were home. A quick hug from both the brothers ended the evening.

It was nice that after such a terrible week, everything that day had been a success. Both Mycroft and Greg wondered how long it would last.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17 – Wondering what I've gotta do, or who I'm supposed to be.

It was nice that after such a terrible week, everything that day had been a success. Both Mycroft and Greg wondered how long it would last.

However, it did seem to be lasting. On Thursday at college, the boys from the football trials (and by extension, their friend groups) were talking _to_ Greg when he passed by, rather than _about_ him. Classes all passed successfully and when the notice got put up for the football team, he was pleased to see that both he and Dimmock made the cut.

To celebrate, the 5 friends decided to make plans for the weekend, along with Cat's step-brother, who was one of Dimmock's best friends.

Mycroft spent Thursday night with his mother, father and Sherlock, knowing that his parents were leaving the next day. Greg spent Thursday catching up on homework. Friday passed inconsequentially for the most part. At morning break though, Greg suggested that Mycroft and himself just spend it the 2 of them.

"Do you wanna come over tonight Myc?" Greg asked as they settled down on a bench outside the college, enjoying the cooling autumn air.

"Yeah, ok. Miss Hainey has had 2 days off with Mummy and Father being here, so she should be fine with Sherlock tonight."

"I was thinking, umm, if you wanted to, you could stay over?" Greg asked hesitantly. "It's just that it's easier to get into the town centre to meet everyone from mine. I said to my mum this morning, and she said it was fine if you wanted to."

Mycroft was stumped. He wanted to stay, and he knew that after their conversation earlier that week, sleeping over would be exactly that, - sleeping. But he'd never been invited to stay overnight with anyone before – hell, before last week he'd never been invited to someone's home full stop.

"Umm, ok. Yeah"

"You don't sound certain Mycroft. Remember what I said the other night; if you don't want to do something, just say so."

"No, I do," said Mycroft with a little more conviction than before. "Thanks for asking me."

* * *

That afternoon, Mycroft didn't wait for Greg at the gates to say goodbye. It felt strange as he climbed into the waiting car to think that it was only a week ago that he'd been standing by those gates, a little heartbroken, while Greg was dealing with Kevin and his friends. He pushed the thought out of his mind as he turned his mind to more pressing problems.

Sherlock would not be happy with Mycroft going away overnight. Especially when he would be out for most of the following day too. The news was not taken well, and Sherlock stormed off to his room after Mycroft had told him. Mycroft however, was now looking forward to his evening with Greg, and hurried around gathering up what he needed. He shoved pyjamas, toiletries, and a change of clothes into a bag. The change of clothes included Mycroft's one and only pairs of jeans. He figured it might be nice to be a bit less formal for his trip out with his friends (he still marvelled when he thought about the fact that he actually had friends).

* * *

Greg was upstairs tidying up his room when the doorbell rang at around 6. Sarah was being taken out for dinner and drinks by a few of the other teachers from the primary school as a sort of welcome – it had actually been scheduled for the previous Friday but had had to be cancelled.

He bolted down the stairs and ripped open the front door. A huge grin spread across his face, and he dragged Mycroft into the house. Greg took Mycroft's overnight bag from him and discarded it down the side of the sofa. He pulled the auburn haired boy to him for a sweet kiss. Mycroft's hands drifted to Greg's brown hair and fisted there as the older boy licked into his mouth. They eventually broke apart, both faces flushed and wearing dopey smiles on their full kiss swollen lips.

"What do you wanna do?" Greg asked the younger teen. "Mum says she'll be back about 11, so we've got free reign, and we're having takeaway for tea."

"You're the host, Gregory," replied Mycroft. "You can decide."

"Umm, ok. How about we go upstairs for a bit, before we order dinner, then we can stick on a DVD?"

Mycroft nodded in agreement. They headed upstairs and no sooner had they got there than Greg's open laptop, lying discarded on his bed from when he rushed to get the door, started to ring with the familiar Skype call noise.

Greg made to ignore it, about to close over the Macbook, but Mycroft said it was fine. He understoodd that Greg missed his friends, and he should be taking every opportunity to catch up with them, but inside he hoped it wasn't Gunnar.

"_Coucou, mon cher_," called a voice when the call was accepted.

Greg laughed. Typical Zoey. When Greg was younger, he spent every summer in France with his paternal grandparents, who wanted to be close to the last living piece of their son, and who doted on Sarah and wanted to give her a little time to recover from the stresses of full time work and single parenthood. Normally she would travel with him and stay for the first week, before returning home for work and repeating again for the last week, so she could accompany him home. From the age of about 6, after meeting Zoey at primary school, she'd joined him for a few weeks every summer. As a result, they both loved French and used it as a sort of secret language between the two, because their other friends didn't understand.

"Salut Zozo. How are you, ma petite?" he answered.

"_Bah, comme si, comme ça. Et toi?"_

"Bien. Things are good," said Greg, trying to steer things back to English.

Mycroft watched from further down the bed. It was clear that Greg was trying to slip the conversation with Zoey back to English, in case the French made Mycroft uncomfortable. It was amusing given that Mycroft was also fluent in French, but Greg didn't know this and it was sweet that his boyfriend was trying to be accommodating.

"_Good, Gregoire. No problems at college then_?"

"Nah, sugarcube. The boys from last week have been suspended, so there's been some gossip, but no trouble. Showed off my prowess on the pitch which settled things a bit too. What about you? Is everyone good?"

Zoey laughed. _"Everyone's is fine here. Crissy met a girl at college and has, comme d'hab, fallen off the map. Other than that and the distinct lack of Lestrade around, things are just like always."_

"Crissy's being Crissy then," chuckled Greg. "There's a distinct lack of Crawford around these parts too, Zo. I miss you like crazy. Only a few weeks 'til half term though."

_"Oh yes, les vacances. Mes parents told me to tell you that you can stay here when you visit. I know you already have things arranged with Gunnar, but I figured, __grâce à votre nouveau ami__, you might be more comfortable here."_

Greg glanced up to catch Mycroft, who was laughing a little bit. Zoey caught the movement as Greg looked over the screen and smiled at someone.

_"__Oh mon dieu,__ he's there isn't he__."_

Greg looked guilty. _"Gregory Matthew Lestrade. First you hide the fact that you even have a boyfriend, and now, you're actually hiding said boyfriend,"_ exclaimed Zoey.

"Sorry Zoey," Greg said, despite not sounding sorry at all. "He's shy though. And you're a lot of work."

Zoey huffed_. "Well, I revoke my invite for you to stay here then."_

"Then Mycroft will definitely not like you. He'll hold a grudge. You, pushing me into the arms of my ex lover," teased Greg.

_"That's not true Mycroft,"_ yelled Zoey to the unknown boy. "_I'll protect our Greg's virtue for ya."_

Mycroft was laughing again. "Thank you, Miss Crawford," he yelled back to the faceless voice.

_"Oooh, he sounds posh, Greg."_

"Right Zo, I'm going to hang up now before this takes a turn for the worst. Say hi to everyone, especially your mum and dad, and i'll give you a call on Sunday."

_"__D'accord__, __Grégoire__._ _À_ l_a prochaine."_

Greg ended the call with a sigh of relief. "Sorry about that. I'm guessing your beginning to see that all my friends from Dorset are certifiable."

"Well, yes. But I like Zoey. She's going to 'protect your virtue' after all," answered Mycroft with a grin.

Greg pulled a pillow from behind his back and whacked the redhead with it. "Pillock."

* * *

The boys ordered Japanese, and curled up in the living room to watch a movie. They'd argued a bit over the choice, but were now settled watching Iron Man – a safe choice after having watched The Avengers with Sherlock and John the previous week. After finishing up their katsu curry, Mycroft burrowed into Greg's side as they watched, lifting his head every so often to exchange soft kisses with Greg.

When Sarah came in at 11.20, the boys were still cozied in with each other on the sofa, dozing softly. They'd fallen asleep before the film had finished. She gently roused them, clearly up the abandoned plates, Coke cans, and takeaway boxes. The boys trudged up the stairs, still half asleep, and Mycroft went to the bathroom to brush his teeth and change into his pyjamas, whilst Greg changed in his room. Greg wasn't really a pyjama person, normally sleeping in his boxers and a t-shirt, but put on PJ bottoms, thinking Mycroft would be more comfortable. Greg went to the bathroom when Mycroft vacated it, and when he went back to his room after doing his teeth, Mycroft was sat on the edge of his bed.

"What are you waiting for?" asked Greg, smiling at his dope of a boyfriend.

"I just didn't know if you slept on a particular side and didn't want to put you out since it is your bed."

"I don't mind," said Greg with a yawn. "Let's just get cuddled in and get to sleep, eh? I'm exhausted."

* * *

When Greg woke up on Saturday morning, he was a bit startled by the warmth beside him at first. Mycroft was curled up along his side, with an arm thrown across his waist, snoring softly. The light filtering through the slightly open blinds showed it still to be early, so he just snuggled back down to wait on Mycroft waking. About 10 minutes later, Mycroft started to shift a little, before waking with a stretch and yawn. He looked up and saw that Greg was already awake, and flashed him a smile. After another 5 minutes of just lying together, Greg started to get up.

"Going to make breakfast, I'll come back up when it's ready to wake Mum, so just go back to sleep if you want."

Reluctantly, Mycroft let him go, and curled up again. As clichéd as it sounds, he was basking. If spending the night just cuddling with Greg made him happy, god forbid what he'd be like when the were doing other things, in lieu of just sleeping.

True to his word, Greg reappeared 20 minutes later, taking a pause in the doorway of his bedroom to enjoy the sight of Mycroft tangled in _his_ sheets.

"Right, up!" Greg demanded as he stepped into the room and trailed the covers off of Mycroft. "Breakfasts ready."

Mycroft stretched out once more before getting up. Downstairs, a surprising assortment awaited him. On the table there was toast, scrambled egg with tomato, bacon, and sausages. Sarah appeared in the kitchen as Mycroft stared at the selection, giving him a quick squeeze on the shoulder and planting a kiss on the top of Greg's head.

"Morning boys," she said as she poured a glass of orange juice and sat down at the table. "Did you sleep ok?"

"Yeah, Mum, thanks," answered Greg as he heaped his plate with food. "Are you just going to stand there Myc, or actually eat any of the food I slaved over?" he asked with a cheeky grin.

"Oh, umm," stuttered Mycroft as he finally sat down. "Thank you, you didn't need to go to all this effort."

Sarah and Greg laughed. "Don't listen to him Mycroft. He does this every Saturday morning," assured Sarah. "He loves cooking. With me working so much, he was sort of forced into learning how to make a passable meal when he was younger. But it turned out he was actually good at it."

"Yeah, you're not getting any special treatment," teased Greg again. "There weren't any mushrooms, sorry guys."

The rest of the breakfast meal was spent chatting comfortably. After they were done, Sarah went to attend to the dishes, and the boys went upstairs to shower and get ready for their day. Greg gave Mycroft a towel, and after a seconds thought, his bathrobe, and sent him off for the first shower. That would mean that Mycroft could have his room to get ready while Greg showered and got dressed in the bathroom.

As it was, when Greg emerged from the bathroom, dressed, but with his hair still damp, he was met with a glorious sight. Mycroft was sitting on his bed reading, dressed in black denim slim fit jeans, grey Converse, and a grey button-down shirt. Greg stood in the doorway, knowing his mouth was gaping.

"Wow."

Mycroft looked up from his book and saw Greg staring at him. He immediately thought he must look stupid. These jeans might have been in his wardrobe, but he'd never worn them before.

"I'm sorry," said Mycroft hurriedly. "I'll just go and get changed."

"Don't you dare. Seriously," insisted Greg. "You look, wow... erm, hot as fuck is the only way I can articulate it."

Mycroft let out a breath that he didn't even know he was holding, but still looked unsure.

"No, I mean it. I never understood why you dressed so formally for college when there's no uniform, and now I'm definitely not sure. Although if you did dress like this every day, my mind would never be on classwork."

Mycroft flushed, but Greg just moved over to him and tugged him up to stand so he could kiss him.

The kiss was interrupted moments later by Sarah who insisted that if they wanted a lift into the town centre, they had exactly 2 minutes to be downstairs ready.

* * *

Cat, and her step-brother Leo, were waiting at the agreed meeting place. Greg was glad that his mum had given them a lift since he hadn't been around long enough to be confident of where he was going and Mycroft didn't socialise enough to know much better, despite living in the area for his whole life. Introductions were made, and Cat explained that Anthea and Dimmock were running a little late after missing a bus.

The conversation quickly changed to their plans for the day. Cat suggested a little exploration of the town, to let Greg (and Mycroft) get to know the place a bit better, and then lunch and a movie later. The three others present agreed, but said they would wait and see what Anthea and Dimmock had to suggest when they got here.

When the other two did arrive, she did a double take over Mycroft's ensemble. After ensuring him that he should dress casual all the time, and that his arse looked amazing in jeans (a thought which was not lost on Greg, but which he just hadn't though appropriate to voice), Cat itinerary for the day was settled, and they headed off.

The first hour or so of their day was spent exploring the shops that the Walthamstow had to offer. Greg, Dimmock and Leo mostly trailed around, discussing football and music, as the girls and Mycroft ventured into stores discussing colour clashes and high-waisted jeans. It had only been two weeks, but the group gelled perfectly together and Leo, who was apparently the 4th member of the college trio, was immediately accepting of both boys into the little circle of friends.

Subway was the decided venue for lunch. It was cute because Mycroft had never had a Subway before and had to be talked through bread and filling choices, toasted vs untoasted, etc. After eating, they were headed off towards the cinema, and although no-one had any idea of what was showing, they were sure that they'd find something to meet everyone's approval. As they walked, Greg and Mycroft held hands, for what was really the first time. Outside the cinema, they checked the boards and decided on Divergent as the movie choice, which started in 20 minutes. They went in to get their tickets and snacks, and that's when the run of good luck the boys had been having ran out.

The cinema was quiet for a Saturday, and only one counter was open for tickets and snacks. The server behind that counter was Steven Kerr. Greg recoiled at the sight of the boy, who was taking in his and Mycroft's joined hands. Mycroft and Dimmock noticed who the boy was, and Mycroft insisted he would go and get the tickets for both of them. The girls were already approaching the counter, and Dimmock pushed to the front to join Anthea so he could gentlemanly pay for their seats. Mycroft joined at the back.

When it was his turn, he just asked for the two teen tickets for the showing they wanted, and didn't meet the boy's eyes.

"I take it that you two fags will want to be away from that lot. Back row, so you can jack each other off, hmm?" sneered Steven.

"No, with the group preferably," answered Mycroft as he tried to keep his voice calm, and handed over the money to pay.

With the tickets in his hand he just moved off to join the group as they headed to the screen.

The film was average, but the company was good, and when it ended, Greg and Mycroft emerged from the darkened screen into the foyer holding hands again, not giving a damn. As it was, more staff had joined Steven, and he did little more than glance at the group before lowering his gaze and pulling out his phone.

The group left the cinema discussing whether a coffees and frappes from Starbucks would just be overindulgent after their Subways and snacks. When they rounded the corner though, the discussion stopped as they found themselves face to face with Kevin Adams and Michael Fisher in the narrow lane that joins the cinema car park and the car park for one of the shopping centres.

It was now clear what Steven had been using his phone for.

Dimmock, at the head of the group, asked the two boys calmly but forcefully to let the group past.

Kevin just sneered. "Yeah, go on Dimmock, we've got no issues with you. We just want a word with the two queers."

They stepped aside, apparently to allow the others to pass, but no-one moved.

"We've just got some bones to pick with them, y'know after the suspension," said Michael, but still the group made no move.

Kevin obviously didn't want to wait and pushed through between Anthea and Dimmock. Dimmock caught Michael before he followed though, and threw him on the ground with ease. Kevin was meanwhile rounding on Greg and Mycroft, attempting to back them into the wall of the cinema, but they stood firm. Kevin was now inches away for the couple.

"Bad enough that you're fairies, but grasses as well," he said, wrapping a calf around one of Mycroft's legs and pushing him by the shoulders to get him to the ground. It happened quickly, but Greg recognized it as the same way he'd been tripped over from behind the previous Friday. By this time Michael was back on his feet and was throwing punches at Leo without much luck. None landed. Dimmock had approached the other altercation, while the two girls just looked on, and helped Mycroft up. In the second that Greg took to check over his boyfriend, Kevin threw a right hook which landed on Greg's jaw, but was pathetic. It seemed the boys could kick when someone was down, but weren't schooled in real fighting. Greg threw a punch at Kevin, making contact hard, and lifted a knee into the boys groin before shoving him back against the opposite wall of the alley, where he slid to the ground. In the half minute that it had taken for Greg to best Kevin, Michael had gotten a lucking punch which burst Leo's lip, prompting Anthea (who was a martial arts genius but didn't enjoy confrontation where it could be avoided) to wind him with a kick.

The whole thing seemed like an action sequence in a film, and seemed to last much longer than it actually did. Without another word, the group left Kevin and Michael in the alley trying to recover their breath. They went to Starbucks and indulged, and just as the light was beginning to dwindle, went their separate ways. Mycroft phoned for a car, which dropped Greg off at home first. Neither mentioned the fight as they kissed goodbye and promised to text later.

Mycroft was certain it wouldn't be the last time Greg's secret fighting skills would save them in a confrontation. But the threat of trouble wouldn't stop them being who they were.

* * *

A/N I feel like I crammed too much into this chapter. I might split this into two eventually, but i'm not going to be updating for a while, so thought i'd be better to give you this than nothing at all. I also want to say a massive thanks to those who have followed. You are few, but you mean a lot.

The french is pretty self explanatory, but here goes:

Coucou, mon cher - hey my dear

Salut - Hey

Bah, comme si comme ça. Et toi? - hmm, alright. You?

Bien. - I'm good.

comme d'hab - as usual.

les vacances - holidays

grâce à votre nouveau ami - because of your new boyfriend  
Oh mon dieu - OMG

D'accord. A la prochaine - Ok, laters.


End file.
